Once an Addict
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: It's post season 4 and Sherlock hasn't been coping well. He's off the rails on drugs and Mycroft asks Molly for a favour. Darker themes but not too dark. Rated M for eventual smut. Third place in the Best Angst 2020 SAMFAs.
1. Chapter 1

**Finally I'm ready to post the 'drug fic' that I've been promising you all for a while. It is based on Sherlock being in rehab so there are plenty of references to him being high, being on drugs, coming off them and maybe even relapsing so if that's not your thing this probably isn't for you. That being said I don't think it ever goes too dark (this is me after all) and there's plenty of light stuff and smut along the way. Be warned though Sherlock is an arse for quite a while!**

**Thanks must go to Lilsherlockian1975 as she has listened to ideas, made suggestions and endlessly supported me. Finally this is set after the events of season 4...how long must we wait for season 5 :(. **

**But enough with the author's notes...shall we get on. **

**Chapter 1**

Sherlock felt like he was flying. His mind felt light and free and he was soaring up above London looking down on the tangled mess of roads and streets and alleyways all so familiar and yet so different. The lights swept together in a fun fair ride of colour and swirls and he held his hand up to try and catch at them, to see if he could hold them in the palm of his hand and he watched in fascination as his hand left trails of colour in its wake. But then the colour and the patterns gave way to a wash of blinding light making him wince in pain.

He groaned as it flashed again and again over his vision and he tried to push it away. This time his hands met something hard and soft at the same time and he pushed against it.

'Ow...Sherlock...Sherlock can you hear me? It's Molly. What did you take? Can you remember?'

His head hurt but at least she'd stopped flashing the light in his eyes. He rolled over, away from her closing up on himself in a fetal position trying to get back to that feeling of flying. If he could just get back there everything would be alright and the pain, the endless pain would fade away.

**Two days earlier**

Molly was relaxing at home in her flat when it happened. Toby had been curled up on her knee, she had had a cup of tea by her side and she had just reached a really good bit in her book, life was good...and then the door bell rang. For a moment she contemplated ignoring it but it was so rare for her to have visitors let alone ones who hadn't buzzed the main door to be let in. Maybe it was Mo Jenkins from next door needing to borrow something.

'Sorry Tobes,' she murmured to her cat as she shifted him off to one side but instead of resettling he stretched out and then jumped down following her to the door.

She ran her hands quickly through her hair wishing she'd brushed it after getting up that morning but she'd been enjoying a bit of a slob day. Anyway Mo wouldn't mind or probably even notice.

She opened the door smiling brightly only to find the smile slipping off her face as she recognised her visitor. 'Myc...Mister Holmes. How can I...is Sherlock alright?'

Her stomach had suddenly dropped with sudden fear that the only reason Mycroft Holmes would be calling on her would be to tell her of the death of his brother.

She saw his quick scan of her person, done almost as a matter of course, absent-mindedly even and it reminded her so much of Sherlock that she felt herself wince at the news that might follow. They had been reeling from one piece of bad news to another over the last year and Molly felt like she had hardly caught her breath since the last one.

'My brother is alive if that's your concern but I am unable to say that he is well. May I come in?'

It was only then that Molly realised she hadn't followed convention and invited him in. She stood back gesturing for him to enter and then glanced down at herself only to suppress a groan. She'd forgotten she was wearing her old sweat pants and t shirt. She must look a right mess. She followed the immaculately dressed Mycroft into her front room and then offered him tea or coffee.

'Tea if you don't mind; and maybe a biscuit if you have one.'

He glanced around her open plan front room as she made her way into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

'I trust my men didn't cause any damage when they removed the cameras that my sister had had installed.'

Molly grimaced at the memory and rolled her eyes at how matter of fact Mycroft could be about it. She had felt emotionally and physically violated when she had heard that Eurus had been spying on her. Coming as it had the day after that gut-wrenching phone call from Sherlock she had found it hard to forgive any of the Holmeses for their impact on her life. So much so that she hadn't even seen Sherlock since that call. She knew why he'd had to make it, John had eventually come round to explain after Molly had repeatedly refused to see Sherlock and when she had texted him asking him to refrain from coming to Barts for a while he had at least respected her wishes. She wondered if that's why Mycroft was here...maybe he'd been sent to plead his brother's cause.

She poured out the water and finished making the tea, adding it to a tray which now also bore a plate of biscuits and then joined him in the living room.

'So Mister Holmes, why are you here?'

'Please call me Mycroft. I think, given your involvement with my brother over recent years we can be less formal than that.'

'Fine, why are you here Mycroft? If it's about Sherlock using Barts...'

'It's not, it's more personal than that.'

That took Molly by surprise and she sat down waiting for him to continue.

'As you know my brother has been through a lot in the last twelve months. First he was shot, then he was almost sent on a suicide mission, Mrs Watson was killed and finally he found out that not only did he have a sister but that she had killed his childhood friend. It has taken a toll on him and it's one that Dr Watson and myself have been struggling to cope with over the last three weeks. I know that you have been distancing yourself from Sherlock in recent times but I find myself in need of your help.'

'Go on.' Molly could feel her heart aching at the news that Sherlock was in a bad place. She had seen John and babysat Rosie a few times recently but each time he had tried to mention Sherlock she had shut him down, she just hadn't been ready to discuss him.

'He's always been susceptible to addiction, ever since he was a teenager, but in recent years he's had an element of control over it. Even when he was using earlier this year after Mrs Watson's death he had his own supply and a young gentlemen...' he sniffed and looked, for a moment, as though he'd trodden in something disgusting. '...a Mr Wiggins, helping him regulate the dosage and ensure quality. I fear however that he is now out of control. Mrs Hudson, John and myself have tried keeping him at Baker St, tried to talk to him and reduce his usage but it has been to no avail. None of us seem to be able to get through to him.'

Molly frowned in confusion she still didn't see where she fitted in to the plan. 'What about rehab? Hasn't he been there before?'

'He has and that's exactly why they won't have him there again. He has been to numerous establishments and word has spread. None of the private facilities will take him and the public ones are not only useless but the waiting lists are prohibitively long.'

'So, what do you think I can do?'

Molly didn't say that in an offering sense but in more of a disbelieving sense. She still wasn't sure what it was he was expecting of her.

'I want my brother to leave London for a while. To go away, maybe to the countryside, to get some fresh air so to speak and separate himself from bad habits and local dealers. Dr Watson is unable to accompany him as he has his young daughter...'

Molly suddenly realised where this was going. 'Wait, no, I can't go with him. Why on earth would you think of me?'

'Why wouldn't I? My brother has few acquaintances and even fewer friends. I am needed in London, Dr Watson has his daughter and ideally I would prefer someone with him who has medical training. Plus my brother has what I would call a...yes, a soft spot for you. I think he would do things for you that he wouldn't for anyone else. You must know that already.'

'No, no I don't think I do know that... but I mean, why should I do anything to help him?'

Mycroft sighed and for the first time Molly saw his sadness and her stomach swooped with fear once more. He was scared, genuinely scared for Sherlock.

'Because Doctor Hooper if you don't I think he might die.'

There was a silence between them as Molly took that in. She believed him implicitly. She knew what Sherlock could be like when he was on drugs and the damage it wreaked on his body. She remembered her examination of him in that ambulance when he was in the middle of the Culverton Smith case. For all his sarcasm and disregard he was seriously ill. Weeks of drug use had taken its toll, not only on his body but also on his spirit as well. There had been a look in his eyes, a shadow there that was unmistakeable. She knew she could never walk away and leave him to die and she knew that Mycroft knew that.

She took a deep breath, her mind made up, not that she was happy about it. 'Fine, what do you need me to do?'

'Find a place for yourself and Sherlock, somewhere far from London where you can help him detox. All your expenses will be paid, you'll have a supply of methadone to help wean him off the heroin and you just have to ask if you need anything else. Sort out time off work and text me the address and I'll have Sherlock delivered to you in 36 hours.'

He passed her a black business card with nothing but his name and a mobile number on it and she took it feeling numb and a little shocked. Her mind was already thinking of all the things she'd need to do. Looked like her lazy home day was already a distant memory.

Mycroft stood, then bent and took a last biscuit and Molly stood with him.

She walked with him to the door and as he crossed the threshold he paused and turned back. 'Thank you Doctor Hooper. I'm sure I don't need to say how much I hope you can get through to him. He refuses to acknowledge it but I would be bereft if I were to lose him.'

She nodded her head and watched as he walked away. When she closed the door she leant her back against it and took a deep breath, what the hell had she just agreed to? Here she had been trying to distance herself from him and now it looked like she was going to be thrust into some weird house share with him.

She tried to think of somewhere suitable and then spent the next few hours researching cottages for rent in a little village just outside Andover where she had lived for ten years until her parents had moved away when she was eighteen. She had left for university around the same time and had never been back but it seemed like the ideal location. Plus she still had a couple of relatives there and probably some of her old friends, it would be nice to see how they and the place were doing.

Luckily there was a small two bedroom, terraced cottage about five minutes walk from the small row of shops and the village pub. She sent the details through to Mycroft and then set about contacting Mike at Barts, sorting out cover for Toby and packing her bags.

**That's the set up done, Molly and Sherlock off together for a romantic...hang on, sorry, for rehab together. How do you like the sound of it so far? xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, hey I'm back with the second chapter. So glad to receive all your support and reviews for this one. Shall we crack on...**

**Chapter 2**

It was just over twenty four hours later that Molly arrived in the picturesque village of Kings Horton. It had everything you could wish for in an English village, history, quaint shops and houses, an ancient pub, a stream running through the centre and plenty of countryside around it. It had driven Molly mad as a teenager, no nightclubs, few other kids in the village and not even a play park but as an adult she appreciated its tranquility and its beauty.

She set herself up in the main bedroom, putting the groceries she'd brought with her into the fridge in the small kitchen. Thankfully the house came fully furnished, it had just come on the market as a holiday let and she knew Mycroft had booked it indefinitely for her. It seemed strange to think that Sherlock would be joining her and that they would effectively be living together here for at least the next couple of weeks. She hadn't really given herself a chance to think about those kind of details because each time she did she felt a nervous sensation deep in her stomach, like getting butterflies before public speaking. It wasn't that she was so nervous around Sherlock nowadays but living with him and trying to get him off drugs was a whole different ball game. She'd sat with him before when he'd been getting dry but this was so much more serious...it was all on her and she didn't know if she could do it.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Mycroft informing her that Sherlock had been picked up and they were on their way. They should be with her just after 7pm. His people were also bringing a portable safe with a supply of methadone and needles. Sherlock's drug of choice this time had been heroin with the odd line of cocaine. She'd been researching detox methods over the last 24 hours and methadone seemed to be the best option for a gradual reduction. Cold turkey would be a nightmare for both of them and would even run the risk of death so she'd ruled that out straight away. She checked her medical bag for the tenth time to make sure she'd got everything she'd need.

She spent the next couple of hours sitting in the garden enjoying the late September sun and reading whilst drinking the odd cup of tea. She'd decided not to bring wine on the basis that Sherlock wouldn't be able to drink when on the methadone and she wanted to support him. It would have been more welcome though and might have settled her racing thoughts.

It was quarter past by the time she heard the car pull up and she stood trying to steel herself for what state he might be in. She hadn't had any contact with him in well over a month and even now she couldn't help the way her stomach flipped over at the thought of seeing him. She made her way through the small cottage and opened the front door just in time to see Sherlock swinging a wild punch at one of Mycroft's men. He missed by almost half a metre and the momentum had him spinning and nearly falling. The other guy caught him and shoved him roughly towards Molly making her wince as Sherlock stumbled and almost fell.

He looked both awful and strangely hot. Just like he'd been that time that she'd picked him up from John's therapists. He was thin and unshaven, his hair unkempt and unwashed and he was wearing the same blue shirt and navy trousers under his Belstaff...she speculated that not many men could make being dishevelled look sexy but somehow Sherlock did.

There were two men accompanying him and whilst the first tried to manoeuvre him into the house the other was at the boot of the car pulling out a suitcase, suit bag and a laptop bag. He waited patiently whilst they got Sherlock in the house and then followed them in asking Molly where he should put Sherlock's things. She directed him up to the spare bedroom and then watched as Sherlock half fell, half collapsed onto the settee.

'Get your fucking hands off me, you're nothing but one of my brother's mindless goons all brawn and no brain, just how he likes them.' He squinted at Molly but she saw no recognition in his eyes. 'You…get me some water. I haven't had anything to drink in hours.'

She took a deep breath but went to get him some water, as requests went it was pretty harmless. At least it was until he drank half and threw the other half over the poor beleaguered guy who was trying to stop him from getting off the settee.

Meanwhile his colleague had brought in a violin case and the portable safe. He looked uncertainly at Molly. 'Are you sure your gonna be alright with him? He's been off his head for the whole trip, god knows what he took.'

Molly tried to sound more confident than she felt. 'Yes, I'm sure. I'll be fine.'

He shrugged and gestured to his colleague who was dabbing at his suit with a handful of tissues that he'd taken from a box on the coffee table. He just gave Sherlock a last disdainful look and muttered a quick 'good luck' to Molly and then they went on their way closing the door behind them.

Molly took a deep breath and opened her bag pulling out her pen light. She just wanted to give him the once over if she could, find out what he'd taken.

When she turned back he looked as though he was passed out with his head resting on the cushioned arm of the settee. She had to ignore the voice that was screaming about how gorgeous he looked and concentrate on the task in hand.

She leant over him and pulled open his eyelid, flashing her penlight across it a couple of times. He groaned in response and his hand came up to her chest, resting on her left boob and pushing her away.

'Ow...Sherlock...Sherlock can you hear me? It's Molly. What did you take? Can you remember?'

He just growled and turned over facing the settee bringing his knees up towards his chest, curling in on himself.

In the end she contented herself with taking his pulse ignoring him as he tried to tug his wrist away. It was elevated but not excessively so. She perched on the edge of the settee and looked down at him, he seemed to be either tripping or sleeping, she wasn't sure which but at least he was calm.

She pottered about making herself cheese on toast for her supper and checking on him every so often but by the time it got to eleven she was exhausted. She tried to rouse him to put him to bed but he just grunted and rolled over so in the end she took his shoes off and covered him with a throw and she left him to it, making sure the house was fully locked up and taking the keys with her.

She'd contemplated sitting with him through the night but his vitals were all fine and she wanted to start as she meant to go on and that was not coddling him. He was a grown man and ultimately responsible for himself.

By the time she crawled into bed she was too tired to even read, all the organising and travel and then the adrenaline rush of Sherlock arriving all catching up with her and she fell into a deep and fairly dreamless sleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The next morning she started to come too, aware of daylight pressing against her eyelids. She frowned and rolled over only to come up against another body..._must be Tom_...was all she thought. They'd hooked up again in recent months in a kind of friends with benefits way.

She put her hand on his side and slid it slowly down over his hip and down to his thigh..._mmm naked..._she felt the first spark of lust low in her belly and she moved forward slightly letting her legs tangle with his and feeling the start of his erection against her hip.

She started to lightly scrape her nails back up his thigh aiming to cup his balls and see if she couldn't wake him up when two things happened. First he groaned and shifted onto his back slightly and she immediately knew it wasn't Tom and secondly she remembered she was alone in a house with Sherlock.

It was like being doused with water. Her eyes snapped open and she saw his face in profile, his eyes still closed, his breathing even and her hand inches away from his...

She seemed to freeze before slowly moving her hand away from his skin and sliding backwards until she could slip out of the bed, narrowly avoiding falling onto the floor. _What the fuck was he doing in her bed...naked!?_

She crept out of the bedroom, grabbing her dressing gown as she went, and closing the door as quietly as possible behind her. She went to the bathroom to freshen up and use the loo and then down to the kitchen to make herself a coffee all the while trying to calm her heart rate over what had just happened. As she'd walked down the stairs she ended up picking up items of Sherlock's clothing where he had discarded them on his way up to bed, blushing at the first item which was a pair of grey, jersey shorts.

He must have awoke in the night and feeling confused just climbed into the first bed he'd found. She was amazed she hadn't heard him come in, she was normally a light sleeper but then again she had been exhausted.

She curled up with her coffee on the settee he'd been on the night before and she tried not to remember the feel of his skin under her hand or the nudge of his erection against her stomach, then she giggled, at least it proved he could get a hard on.

A few minutes later and she heard movement from upstairs and the next moment Sherlock appeared wrapped up in one of the sheets from the bed yawning and rubbing his face. He glanced around blearily, looking confused and then paused when his eyes landed on Molly. She could almost see his thought processes as he put two and two together.

'Bloody Mycroft.'

He came and sat down at the side of her pulling the sheet around him a bit more and then he looked at her before his gaze slid down to the coffee cup in her hand.

He coughed and cleared his throat. 'I don't suppose there's one of those for me?'

She smiled shyly and then stood making her way back into the kitchen to get him a cup. At least he was talking to her and reasonably compos mentis. She just wondered how he was going to take his exile from London.

**I feel like I want to say "and so it begins" even though we're on the second chapter. I suppose this is where the true Molly/Sherlock interaction starts so maybe we are at the end of the beginning. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I seem to be having a week of misfortunes at the moment. I had a fantastic night on Sunday watching Rick Astley, Take That and Lulu live in concert which was amazing. And I was supposed to be having a nice week off work with my boys having plenty of day trips. That was until I fell over (on a discarded lightsaber - does that make it any cooler) and knackered my foot and knee. So I'm currently laid up in bed feeling a bit sorry for myself.**

**The good news for you guys is that means I can post this chapter and then do some writing on some of my up and coming fics so I suppose it's not all bad news.**

**Hope you're all having a better week xx**

**Chapter 3**

He was shivering a little by the time she brought him back the coffee and she could see a nerve twitching under his eye...he must be starting to feel the withdrawals from the drugs already and she needed to talk to him about her plans to use methadone.

It was Sherlock who spoke first though after taking a deep draught of his coffee, wincing at the heat and the bitter taste. 'So, let me see if I've worked this out correctly. My brother has somehow persuaded you that I'm better off out of London. He told you the rehab clinics wouldn't take me and also that he needed a doctor, someone I'd trust. John was out of the picture because of Rosie and that leaves you. Faithful little Molly Hooper always happy to drop everything to tend to my every whim.'

She took a deep breath but refused to take the bait, he was goading her, wanting an argument, a reason for him or her to be able to storm out and blame the other.

'Yep, that sounds about right. He tells me you've been taking heroin mainly, sometimes cocaine. Anything else?'

'Whatever I can lay my hands on Molly...if I can snort it, swallow it or inject it I will. What makes you think you're going to be able to stop me?'

She shrugged. 'I can't, not if you don't want to be stopped...but see I think you do. I think all of this is some kind of bid for attention, a cry for help. If you'd wanted to go off the rails and not be helped you'd have done it without any of us knowing about it. You could have left London, you could have gone undercover as a homeless person...dammit Sherlock I'm sure you could have thought of a thousand ways of doing it secretively but you didn't. You did it in plain sight which means you want our help so like it or not here it is.'

He glanced around looking nervous for the first time, his bravado slipping away a little, he cleared his throat again. 'So, what's it to be...cold turkey?'

She saw another shudder go through his body and his hand fisted, bunching up the material of the sheet, as he tried to control it and cover it up.

'No, too harsh and too dangerous. Methadone.'

He turned his head to look at her and she saw the gleam in his eye and she knew exactly what he was thinking...he'd raid the stash and get high on that instead.

'Before you think of stealing it, its fingerprint locked and there's a key which I'll be keeping close.'

He smirked. 'You think I don't already know that it's on a long chain around your neck and sitting between your breasts as we speak.'

As he spoke his eyes travelled down her body resting on her chest and she knew she was colouring up as she pulled her dressing gown closed a little. Had he meant to sound quite so lewd when he said that...probably. He was still an addict first and foremost and she wouldn't put anything past him.

'Well, there's no time like the present. I may as well give you your first dose. We'll do one a day gradually reducing the dosage over the next couple of weeks. How does that sound?'

'I think it sounds tedious and boring but if you're going to do it get on with it and make the first dose a high one. I've been taking a lot of drugs and I really don't fancy coming back down just yet.'

As she made her way over to the secure box and her medical bag she was conscious of his eyes on her watching her every move.

'So, where the fuck are we? What god forsaken hole did my brother choose?'

'We're in Kings Horton just outside of Andover...and he didn't choose it, I did.'

She moved back to Sherlock wanting to check his vitals before giving him the injection. He was shaking now and starting to sweat and she could see the pain in his eyes as he started to fully experience the withdrawal symptoms.

'Hmm, so you chose it. I'm deducing it must have some sentimental reason for being chosen otherwise we'd be at the seaside or some other commercially popular location. What are we talking first family home, grandparent's home...which is it?...because you, Molly Hooper, are so predictable.'

Molly sighed, it looked like he was still as sharp as ever and the drugs were bringing out his cruel streak. 'It's where I lived from the age of ten through til when I left for University. My parents moved to Surrey soon after. I haven't been back here since then.'

As she started to take his pulse he huffed, changing the subject once more. 'Come on Molly get on with it. How long does it take you to stick a needle in me? Are you slower because I'm not dead...not used to a patient who's living and breathing? If it's easier for you I'm happy to do it myself.'

Looked like he was back to goading her again. She ignored him and concentrated on taking his blood pressure and noting down the figures in a small notebook. If she was going to do this she was going to be thorough. She tried not to stare at his arm whilst she tied the strap to help find a vein. She had a bit of a thing about his arms and hands...hell, she had a bit of a thing about the whole package but his arms and hands were particularly sexy. It pained her however to see all the previous injection sites tracked up and down his left arm and the bruising and scarring that went with them. He hadn't been gentle with himself. There was less on his right so she used that arm to give him his injection.

As she depressed the plunger she saw him close his eyes and rest his head on the back of the settee waiting for the hit of the drugs and she felt sadder about this whole experience than she had previously. Seeing him as the addict he clearly was was upsetting.

He opened his eyes and stared at her and she knew that he had seen her sorrow from the way that his eyes slid away to one side. She knew he'd hate being pitied.

She took a deep breath and sat down next to him. She started to put her hand out, hesitated but then continued anyway, placing her hand on his arm.

'Listen I'm not going to have a go at you for this, we've all been through a nightmarish year what with Mary and everything and it's been worse for you with all this stuff with your sister and Baker St getting blown up and...well, I can't say I understand your need to take drugs, it's not my thing, but I do understand why you needed something. I just wished you'd told John...or even me so we could try to help you earlier. You're not alone anymore Sherlock you have to stop acting like you are. Let me help you?'

She could see the battle waging in his head between the old Sherlock who despised having emotions and needing support and the one she hoped would win who acknowledged his feelings.

She held her breath but in the end he just shook his head and stood up, forcing her to relinquish her hold on his arm. 'I'm tired, I think I'll go back to bed.'

'Fine, but use your own room.'

'I was in my own room.

'No, you were in mine.'

He pouted, he honest to God pouted and Molly almost laughed. 'It has the larger bed, I'm taller than you. I can't sleep in a single.'

Molly held firm. 'I don't care. You can and you will. I'm here helping you, I've left my job, my flat and my cat behind and I'm damned if on top of all that I'm sleeping in a box room. So, sleep in your own room.'

He huffed and just made his way back up the stairs, half of the sheet trailing behind him. Molly contemplated standing on the end of it to watch it unravel but instead she took a deep breath and wondered what she fancied doing for the day.

In the end she chose to make her way into the village and pick up a few fresh provisions, she hadn't been able to carry much the previous day, just coffee, milk, and a few breakfast bits. As she meandered up the high street she wondered if she would bump into anyone she knew. She'd already contacted her cousin via Facebook and he'd invited her and Sherlock over for a meal in a couple of days. She hadn't told him the real reason she'd come to the village just that she was visiting with a friend for a bit of a holiday. She hadn't seen him since his wedding almost eight years before and she was looking forward to seeing his kids, a little girl of about six and a new baby just under a year old.

She'd also left a message with her old friend from school but hadn't heard back yet. She hadn't seen Abby in nearly 15 years and it would be great to catch up with her.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The weather was fine, not exactly hot but not that biting cold that could settle in sometimes in Autumn. It felt so strange to be back and there were so many memories assaulting her senses. There was the pub where she'd had her first drink, the bus shelter where she'd had her first kiss and awkward fumble. She smiled as she remembered him, David something or other, he hadn't been the best looking guy in the world but he had been quite sweet and safe.

The bookshop where she'd had a Saturday job had changed hands and was now an antique shop as well as still having a room full of second hand books in the back. She had a bit of a browse and picked up something light to read whilst she was here, she hadn't really thought of how to entertain herself in the rush to find a house and pack.

Finally she made it to the little village store which also doubled up as a post office and she was surprised when she bumped straight into Abby who was making her way out of the front door of the shop. Molly would have recognised her anywhere, she had hardly changed a bit, a little older but still very Abby. The only real change was the fact she was in a wheelchair.

The two friends greeted each other warmly and Molly felt the years slip away as they started to talk.

'I need to pick up a couple of bits from the shop but do you want to come back to mine for a coffee or something, I'm renting a place with a friend just down the road.'

'Why not! I'm not working today and it would be good to catch up. I'll be honest I was surprised when I got your message and a little unsure as to whether to get in touch. I mean...so much has changed for me but...now I see you that seems a little daft.'

Abby waited whilst Molly picked up some food for herself and Sherlock for the next couple of days and then the two friends made their way to the cottage.

**I did warn you that Sherlock would be an arse at first but I hope you agree that Molly stuck up for herself and wasn't a pushover...I like her to be strong. **

**And I have to admit it is fun to write snarky, goady Sherlock. Let me know which Sherlock you like best.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, you'll be glad to hear I'm fully recovered after last week's lightsaber tumble but I think my kids have already forgotten the lesson about not leaving stuff on the floor.**

**Anyway, enough of all that...shall we see how Sherlock copes with Molly bringing a guest back.**

**Chapter 4**

As Molly and her friend made their way back to the cottage they were already talking ten to the dozen. It was as if the years apart had never happened and they fell back into their friendship so easily.

'So, what brings you back here then? I take it it's not a permanent move.'

'No, just a holiday. My friend hasn't been well and needed somewhere to convalesce and I wanted to see the old place.'

Abby scrunched up her face in a way that took Molly right back to being 15 and giggling with her friend over boys. 'Well, as you can see it hasn't changed much. Still boring. I only came back because I needed help from my parents after my accident and I seem to have been stuck here ever since.'

'What was it? Your accident that is.'

'Car crash, my fault in a way. I got in the car with my husband even though I knew he'd been drinking. We went head on into another car, he walked away relatively unhurt and I'll never walk again. The driver of the other car was killed outright.'

By now they were at the door of the cottage and Molly started to unlock it. 'Oh Abby, I'm so sorry. That's awful. What happened to the husband, is he not here with you?'

'No, he got two years in prison for causing death by driving. He was out after 18 months...I'm the one that got a life sentence. Anyway, he divorced me whilst he was in prison and we're not in touch. He couldn't bear to see me or speak to me, I'm just a reminder and he doesn't like to see himself as the bad guy.

Molly threw her keys on the small table by the door which also held the landline phone and she listened for a moment to see if she could hear Sherlock moving around but it was all quiet.

She gestured for Abby to follow her in grateful that the cottage was just big enough to accommodate the wheelchair.

'Coffee or tea?'

'Tea please, white no sugar.'

Molly made the drinks and put some of the biscuits she'd just bought out onto a plate and then she joined her friend in the front room.

'I'm sorry to hear about your divorce. Any kids?'

'No and there won't be now. Let's just say there were other complications from the accident.'

Molly sighed and put her hand on her friends, squeezing it lightly. 'Oh Abby, I'm so sorry.'

Her friend smiled brightly but Molly could tell it had taken some effort. 'It's OK, I've come to terms with it now. How about you...are you married or got any kids?'

'No and no and not likely to do either.'

'Really, you surprise me. You were always determined to be married by thirty and kids by thirty two so what happened?'

Molly shrugged. 'Life I suppose. I was wrapped up in my career for most of my twenties. I'm a senior pathologist at Barts hospital in London.'

'Eww...don't tell me you cut up dead people for a living. You always were a bit morbid like that.' Abby was giggling as she said it and Molly rolled her eyes.

Abby continued. 'So...what? Too busy with the dead to find yourself a fella?'

'I was engaged a year or so ago but I broke it off. He was a nice guy but well...'

'Don't tell...he was too nice. I remember you, you always did prefer a bad boy. Didn't you dump David Clements for that guy that ended up two timing you?'

'Noel Robbins, yeah that was me. And you're not wrong, Tom was way too nice and...well, I just realised I didn't love him enough. Better to let him go.'

Abby nodded and took a sip of her tea. 'No one else since?'

Molly bit her lip and wondered if she should say anything when she heard movement in the room above them. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, he'd slept in her room again.

Abby glanced up. 'Is that your friend? What's wrong with her?'

Molly heard the bedroom door open and close and knew she didn't have enough time to prepare Abby.

'Umm...difficult to say. But it's not a her it's a him.'

Just then Sherlock appeared still wrapped in his sheet, yawning and scratching his head. Molly closed her eyes, how did he manage to look so fucking sexy, he should look like a wreck but the stubble just seemed to suit him somehow. She glanced at Abby to find her sat open mouthed and staring at Sherlock as he made his way down the narrow staircase.

He finally noticed the two of them sitting there watching him and he narrowed his eyes. 'I'm assuming old school friend going by age. Divorced, no doubt because of the wheelchair, no kids and back living with parents…again because of the wheelchair. What was it? I'm deducing car accident...in fact I'm guessing the husband was driving, hence the divorce. Drinking or drugs?'

He sat down next to Molly on the settee. 'Any chance of another coffee Molly, I'm gasping?'

Molly huffed but pushed herself off the settee as she heard Abby going through the normal reaction.

'Drinking but how on earth did you know all that?'

'I'd tell you but I literally can't be bothered. Has Molly explained that she's holding me here against my will? Locking me up and pumping me full of drugs.'

Molly rolled her eyes in the kitchen still able to hear as Sherlock's voice dropped to a loud whisper. 'Get a message to the police. I think she's planning on using me as a sex slave, she's been frustrated ever since she broke it off with the idiot known as meat dagger.'

'Sherlock, leave Abby alone. Ignore him he's just mentally ill, making up stories, paranoia that kind of thing. Maybe you'd prefer to drink your coffee in your own bedroom.' She said the last rather pointedly and hoped he'd take the hint.

'So are you denying that you're holding me against my will?'

He paused and then carried on. 'Or that you're pumping me full of drugs?'

She took a deep breath. 'Only because I have to, because you're too much of an ass to look after yourself properly. Now if you don't mind I'd prefer to catch up with my friend alone. Goodbye Sherlock.'

'Fine.' He stood up so quickly, whilst carrying his cup of coffee that most of the sheet fell away. He caught the front before he was completely exposed but Molly got an eyeful of a tight, muscular backside on top of long, slim legs and he made no extra move to cover it up as he walked away.

'Laters Molly, enjoy the view.'

Molly couldn't help but watch as he walked back up the stairs before swearing under her breath as she heard HER bedroom door open and close. Then she turned back to Abby who was waiting with her eyebrows raised for some kind of explanation.

'Ah...yes...well that would be my "friend"'. She air quoted with her fingers as she said the word friend. 'He can be a bit of an arse when he's in a bad mood.'

'So, I saw and can I say what a fine arse he does actually have. Jeez Molly please tell me you aren't sleeping with him because he's fucking gorgeous and I will be so damn jealous.'

'No, I'm not. We're just friends nothing more.'

Her voice must have betrayed her because Abby tilted her head to one side. 'Oh my God, he's the bad boy. I'm right aren't I? You're in lust with him...is that why you broke off your engagement. Did you have an affair with...sorry, what's his name again?'

'Sherlock...Sherlock Holmes.'

This time Abby frowned and Molly knew that the penny was going to drop any...second...

'Oh, he's that detective isn't he? The one who died but wasn't dead. It was all over the papers a couple of years ago when he came back. I thought I recognised his face. I remember reading it all when I first came back here to recover. So, how do you know him?'

Molly gave her a potted history of her relationship with Sherlock almost glad to have someone new that she could talk to. She avoided mentioning him with her current friends, worried that they were fed up of her tales of unrequited love and her only other confident had been Mary and since her death Molly had felt particularly alone with her feelings for him.

'And you've loved him all this time and never...you know...not even once.'

'Nope...nothing. He's just not interested.'

'Damn Molly that's harsh. I'm not surprised you like him though, he's just your type. Didn't you aways say your ideal man would be tall, slim, dark haired, green eyes and insanely intelligent. He couldn't match that description any better if he tried.'

Molly laughed remembering that old prediction. It had been based on a guy she knew two years above them at school but now Abby pointed it out she realised how right she was, it did match Sherlock, she'd never really thought about it. Seemed he was just her type.

They carried on catching up for another half an hour until Abby said she had to leave. 'Doctor's appointment I'm afraid, they're endless. Do you fancy catching up some more at the pub tomorrow night? I can't guarantee that it will be a rockin' evening but the beer is good. Bring Sherlock with you, someone that sarcastic and good looking is bound to cheer the evening up some what.'

Molly giggled. 'Well I'll definitely be there but I can't make any promises about Sherlock, he can be a bit awkward. I'll ask him though.'

She waved Abby off, happy that they'd reconnected but sad at the turn her life had taken. She had had so many plans when they had left school…but she seemed happy enough and she supposed that's all any of them could expect.

She sighed as she turned back into the house, glancing at the stairs and holding her breath for a moment to see if she could hear anything but it was all quiet upstairs. She glanced at the clock surprised to see it was early afternoon, it was surprising how quickly she had fallen out of her normal routine now she was off work.

She made her way into the kitchen and started to put together a chicken and avocado salad for herself and Sherlock. She was determined to get him eating properly and even to put on a little bit of weight. He was far too thin and it wasn't healthy…none of his current lifestyle was healthy.

Once it was ready she went upstairs to see if she could rouse him only to hear him shouting at someone. She frowned to herself as she made her way into what was rapidly turning into their room rather than her room only to find Sherlock half lying on the bed with the sheet barely over him, shouting at John who he was skyping with.

As she opened the door John responded sounding angry. 'I hope you aren't being this obnoxious with Molly. She's doing you a massive favour you know.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes at both John and at Molly who had just walked into the room. 'Molly's a big girl, I'm sure she can handle my bad mood. I didn't know you were such a snowflake though John. Just find me a case, anything. Being stuck here is bad enough but being stuck here without a case is interminable.'

Before John could even reply he slammed the laptop closed and threw it over to the other side of the bed, sitting up and ruffling his hair.

Molly didn't quite know where to look first; at the sight of him messing with his gorgeous curls or at the sheet which had ridden perilously low on his hips as he'd sat up. She was certainly seeing a lot more of Sherlock than she had expected.

He must have caught her looking because when she finally brought her eyes up to his face he was smirking a little. 'Yes Molly, what is it? Just up here to ogle me or did you have another reason.'

She felt her anger rise and her lips flattened out. 'Bastard! I'm here to let you know there's some salad downstairs for you. Probably about time you got up, it is nearly three.'

He sighed heavily. 'So what, who cares. Not as though there's anything particular for me to bother getting up for.'

She didn't respond so he just huffed again and then pushed the sheet to one side and stood up. 'Better have a shower then.'

Molly had rarely felt so shocked. Of all the things she had expected from him, having him sauntering about naked was not one of them.

He walked past her on his way to the bathroom and she tried not to look but it was difficult.

'Come on Molly, not like you haven't seen anyone naked before, though maybe you're not used to them moving about so much. Better get used to it, you're the one who chose to live with me and I'm not exactly shy…just ask John.'

He walked out and Molly closed her eyes trying to calm down her reactions to him. She didn't know whether she was more angry or horny or both. Either way living with him was far harder than she had ever expected.

**Sherlock is continuing to be an arse but a sexy one. Are you still enjoying the snark?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Rain, rain go away...come again another day,**

**Rain, rain go away...come on mother's washing day**

**Thought I'd share an old childhood song as it seemed apt given the current, very un-summery, weather.**

**Chapter 5**

Molly decided to eat her food out in the back garden. The small table and chairs out there were just right for two and it was all very enclosed and pretty. The weather was perfect and she could almost believe that she was on holiday instead of looking after the world's most insufferable hottie.

She grinned and shook her head as she remembered the sight of him completely naked. It would be a long time, if ever, before she forgot that image. Even underweight he was still gorgeous and sexy and she worried about her ability to keep focused on the job in hand which was getting him clean.

There was a scrape of a chair at the side of her which broke her out of her reverie and she looked around shocked to see that a freshly showered Sherlock, clad in his indigo dressing gown, was joining her.

He pulled up another of the cast iron garden chairs and then sat down on one and put his feet up on the other. Instead of putting his plate on the table to eat he held it one handed against his chest and then ate using just a fork.

They were silent together for a few minutes whilst they ate and it was only when Sherlock put down his plate and picked up the glass of water that he had brought out with him that he spoke.

'I should thank you Molly.'

She frowned. 'What for?'

He shrugged, not looking at her but instead looking out at the garden. She followed his gaze and took in the sight of all the flowers in bloom, the colour and the scent relaxing her.

'All of this, everything that you're doing for me. I know I've been…snappy…'

She snorted a little at his understatement and he glanced at her and smiled. 'OK! Maybe a bit more than snappy and I'm sure my behaviour won't get any better as I detox…but I am…or at least I will be grateful.'

He took a sip of his water and fell silent again.

Molly felt a little surprised at his admission. It was the nicest he'd been since he arrived, more like the Sherlock he'd been with her since he came back from his fake death.

'It's OK. I…I don't want to see you seriously ill…or worse. We've all been through a rough time recently and I know it's been pretty hard on you.'

He gave a dry laugh. 'You have no idea.'

'You know you can always talk to me if you want to.'

'Now you sound like the therapists that Mycroft tries to fix me up with. Talking is boring it doesn't help. The only things which ever seem to help are the drugs and my work.'

Molly nodded once and tried to think how she could help him but he carried on.

'It's like ants under my skin, in my head, crawling all over me. My mind never stops, thinking, whirling, it's endless….no one ever seems to understand…not Mycroft, not John…no one.'

'I can't say as I do either but I am here for you Sherlock. Whatever you need I'll give you if I can…I mean, well…you know what I mean.'

He turned his head and smiled at her and she smiled back. It felt like a bit of a break through and she hoped that they could build on it. It didn't last for long though... he went and hid back upstairs for most of the evening only bothering to shout down when he needed something to drink.

As she got ready to go up to bed she was determined to stand her ground over the bedroom. She was damned if she was going to be pushed out into the spare room. She made her way into the room and found Sherlock curled up into a fetal position in the middle of the bed shivering and muttering to himself.

Concern washed over her and she sat on the side of the bed and took hold of his wrist looking at her watch so she could take his pulse. He barely seemed to know that she was there. His heart rate was slightly elevated but not enough to worry her. A hand to his forehead told her that he was sweating but before she could do more he spoke.

'D..don't worry yourself M…Molly. J...just a n…normal p…part of detox. D…don't suppose you'll let me have m…more methadone?'

'I can't Sherlock, I'm sorry. We need to wait another few hours before the next dose. Can I get you anything?'

He shook his head and she winced as another shudder racked his body.

'Maybe I'll sleep in the spare room tonight. Give you some space.'

'NO!'

She jumped at the anger in his voice and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'P…please, don't leave me Molly. I n…need you.'

She frowned a little but nodded her head. 'Oh…OK…I'll umm just get ready for bed then.'

He closed his eyes and she picked up her things making her way to the bathroom feeling conflicted as she brushed her teeth. Sleeping in the same bed as him was not something that she undertook lightly. The night before she hadn't known he was there but this felt different. Even though he was suffering it was still an intimate thing to do and they just didn't have that kind of friendship.

She made her way back into the room and as she walked around the bed to the other side he unfurled himself a little, giving her some space. She slid under the covers and turned out the light using the duel switch on the wall above the headboard and then she lay there wondering how she would ever manage to get to sleep. She felt acutely conscious of him lying at the side of her, his breathing uneven and shaky, and she knew she'd struggle to relax with him so close.

It didn't seem that Sherlock had the same qualms because a moment later he pulled her closer and wrapped himself around her, his head on her shoulder and his arm around her waist. Their legs tangled together and Molly could hear her heart thundering in her chest and almost wondered whether he could hear it as well.

'J..just relax M…Molly….p…please.'

She shifted a little in his arms making herself more comfortable and she listened to his breathing evening out a little. It seemed that being closer to her was relaxing him even if it was doing the opposite to her.

Nervously she covered his hand with her own feeling his skin, the warmth of him, and she tried to feel relaxed but all she could think was how close he was, how good it felt and how desperately horny she was. She berated herself in her head for objectifying him, especially when he was so ill but her mind was a traitorous thing and it was a long while before she could sleep.

In the morning she came too gradually hearing the birds singing outside and becoming conscious of the muted sunlight on her eyelids. She took a deep breath and stretched a little and became aware that Sherlock was now spooning her and his hand was on her breast. As soon as she realised lust washed through her and she had to bite back a moan. He was killing her…that's what he was doing….slowly but surely killing her with unrequited lust.

She lay there letting her mind come too and knowing she should get up and maybe have a cold shower but that's when she noticed his erection pressed up against her backside. She closed her eyes again and bit her lip. The temptation to press herself back and against him was almost overwhelming.

She had just resolved to get up when she felt him wake up. He groaned and pulled her closer to him as he stretched and his hand tightened against her breast making her nipple harden. His cock rubbed up against her and she couldn't help but let out a mewl of pure desire.

Her heart was beating ten to the dozen and lust was pooling low in her belly and even though her brain was screaming at her to get up she couldn't seem to muster the will power. It only got worse as he rocked his hips against her and she stiffened as she felt his lips on her neck.

'Molly…'

His voice was low and breathy and sent all sorts of messages through her body and she let out a shuddering breath pressing herself back against him.

It didn't last for long though as his next words were like a bucket of cold water being thrown over her.

'Time for my next injection wouldn't you say…you wouldn't want to keep me waiting.'

She pulled away from his hold and sat up feeling angry and confused but when she looked round at him he was just lying on his back smirking and she found herself wanting to slap it off his face.

'Tick tock Molly. Better dose me up before I do something I shouldn't to take my mind off it.'

His hand moved over her thigh under the covers and she jumped as he squeezed it, moving away and swinging her legs out from under the covers.

'You really are a bastard aren't you.' She stood up just feeling angry now and as she grabbed her dressing gown off the chair she saw him raising his eyebrows.

'Just realising that now Molly….took you long enough. You may as well bring me a coffee as well seeing as you're going downstairs. Don't be too long though I'm feeling like shit here.'

She stomped off to the bathroom determined to take her time and make him suffer just that little bit longer. His mood swings were giving her whiplash and her poor body was still suffering. She just wished she could rid herself of her feelings for him because he was just using them like he used to when they first met.

It was about fifteen minutes later when she went back upstairs with his coffee and his second methadone shot and when she saw how much his body was shaking as she injected him she felt her sympathy for him hit her once more. She had to cut him a bit of slack, he might be a bastard but he was a bastard who was suffering.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as he closed his eyes and let the impact of the drug wash over him, the strain lines on his face easing off, the pinched look disappearing.

'So what do you want to do today? How about a walk, that might do you good?'

Sherlock just opened his eyes and raised a single eyebrow in disdain.

'We could go and check out the tree where a body was found in the 1930's….cold case, never solved…'

She said the latter in a slightly sing song voice and Sherlock couldn't help but smile.

'Molly Hooper are you tempting me with murder, because dammit I think it might be working?'

She grinned in return and asked him if he wanted some breakfast, pleased when he responded positively, it seemed the methadone was helping his appetite rather than suppressing it as it could have done. So long as she could get him through this alive and well she'd be happy.

**Sherlock is starting to suffer and his mood swings are all over the place...will a cold case distract him or should he find a different distraction?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Every week I've planned to post earlier and not leave you waiting as long and every week the time just seems to disappear. So, apologies for making you wait as long as I did. I hope it's worth the wait.**

**For information the mystery mentioned is loosely based on the case of a skeleton found in a Wych Elm in Hagley Woods known by the phrase 'who put Bella in the Wych Elm'. That case is unsolved just like this but any of Sherlock's deductions are just made up by me. Well done to those who had already figured out the case I was ripping off :).**

**Chapter 6**

It was just after eleven when they finally made it out of the house. Sherlock had not just showered but shaved as well and even though Molly liked seeing him with stubble she had to admit it was good to see him looking more like himself.

He did shun his suits though in favour of a white shirt and jeans which did set her heart fluttering and her imagination whirling when she saw him making his way down the stairs. She made a conscious effort not to stare too much, not wanting her feelings to be any more apparent than they obviously were.

As they left the cottage Molly couldn't help but feel more positive; the sun was shining, the village looked perfect and Sherlock seemed to be in a relatively good mood all things considered.

They stopped off at the village store to pick up some items for a picnic lunch and then headed out along the river and towards the woods which surrounded the village.

'We always used to hang out around here when we were growing up. The guys liked to try to scare us with ghost stories and tales of the body found in the tree but it never really worked with me, I just found it endlessly fascinating rather than scary.'

She walked on with Sherlock following and as they went she gave him an overview of the case.

'It was 1934 and some boys playing in the area found the remains of a body stuffed inside the hollow base of one of the old trees in the wood. The body was that of a young female and it was estimated that it had lain there unfound for about six months. I did have the autopsy files sent to me a few years back but it was all quite basic back then. She was estimated between 18 and 25, her dental work was sent out for identification but even though it seemed to be done in the UK no dentist ever came forward as recognising it. She had on a red dress, black court shoes and there was a black coat stuffed over her in the gap, hence why the body hadn't really been spotted earlier…it acted like a camouflage. Any identifying labels had been torn out of the clothes though.'

She paused as she climbed over a stile, waiting for Sherlock to join her, glancing around as she did at the field of cornflower. The sun was quite warm but not so hot that she needed to wear sun cream. It was unusually warm and felt like a perfect summer's day and even the talk of murder and bodies didn't dampen her mood.

Sherlock stood at her side and relieved her of the bag containing their lunch. 'Go on, so far it's almost a five and as such it's gaining some of my attention.' He smirked and walked on along the path.

'The pathologist couldn't make a definitive judgement on the cause of death due to the age of the body but he leant towards her having been strangled. Her scarf was still wrapped tightly around her neck and what little skin there was beneath it still bore signs of discolouration and ligature marks. The strange thing was that she didn't match any missing person and no one ever came forward to claim the body. She's buried in an unmarked grave in the church cemetery. I've been to see it a couple of times and I can't help but feel sorry for her…unnamed and unknown.'

They walked on for another ten minutes before Molly pointed to a large, old elm tree in the middle of a small grassy area. Sherlock put the food bag down onto the ground and stepped forward to walk around it before bending to look into the gap still obvious at the base of the tree. He tried to climb into it himself but it was far to small and he turned to Molly who looked slightly disgusted and shook her head vehemently.

'No chance.'

'Come on Molly, I just want to get an idea as to how easy or difficult it would be to get a body in the gap. Bearing in mind that the tree has had another eighty years of growth she must have been your size or smaller to fit…please.'

'Oh I can't believe I'm doing this. Are there any spiders in there?'

She bent down and together they looked inside the small space. She was very aware of how close Sherlock was to her. It was as though living together, even for such a short space of time, had broken down their personal spaces so they were much more comfortable in close proximity to each other.

He brushed the loose twigs and leaves out of the base and lay the picnic blanket, which was just a throw from the cottage, onto the ground inside the hollow and then Molly, still grimacing, curled herself up so she could fit inside. It was tight but doable.

'The body would have had to still be warm when she was put inside. Any sign of rigor would have made it impossible.' Said Sherlock as he glanced and felt the spaces that were left around Molly's body. Finally he held out his hand and helped to pull her back to her feet. She stumbled a little and ended up with her hands against his chest and his on her waist balancing her and she knew she was blushing as she pushed away from him and thanked him.

They ended up eating their food at the foot of the tree whilst Sherlock speculated about what might have happened. He'd reached the extent of her knowledge and was listing what he needed to look up when they got back to the cottage and Molly couldn't help but feel a swell of happiness at how much like his former self he sounded. The walk had been a good idea.

She lay down on the blanket and looked up through the tree branches, watching them sway slightly in the breeze and she could feel her eyelids drooping as she listened to Sherlock's voice. It felt as though it had been a hectic few days and the stress was catching up with her. She knew she shouldn't but she just needed to close her eyes for a couple of minutes…that was all…no more…

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

When she came too her head was more elevated and she felt more comfortable than she had been when she drifted off to sleep. She opened her mouth as she tried to get some moisture back in her mouth and was shocked that instead of the view of the tree branches instead she could see Sherlock's face above hers, his eyes closed but his mouth moving as he recited something silently to himself and she realised that her head must be on his lap.

As she started to sit up he opened his eyes and smiled. 'Hey, sleepy head.'

She stretched out the kinks in her shoulders. 'Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.'

Sherlock just rolled his eyes at her stating the obvious but he gestured to his lap. 'Hope you didn't mind but you didn't look comfortable without any support for your head.'

Molly couldn't help but be surprised that he'd bothered but she thanked him whilst internally hoping that she hadn't snored or dribbled on him.

As they stood to pack up their things Molly noticed Sherlock putting his hand on the tree to balance himself and she went over to check on him.

'Hey, are you OK?'

He tried to brush her off a little but she stood her ground until he answered her. 'Just tired and a little dizzy that's all. Side effect of the methadone…I'm unfortunately quite familiar with the downsides. I'll be OK? Just need to rest when we get back.'

Molly carried on putting their rubbish into her bag and rolling up the blanket. 'That reminds me, we've been invited out tonight. Just to the pub, nothing special. Do you want to come?'

Sherlock sneered a little. 'Not really, I think you can manage without me. Come on let's go, sooner we get back, the sooner I can rest.'

Molly followed behind him watching as he occasionally swayed or staggered and she was quite happy when they finally arrived at their temporary home. Sherlock went for a lie down straight away, in his room for once, and after a quick cuppa and a change of clothes she set off out to the pub. It was already getting dark and she was glad of the old street lights to help guide her way to the brightly lit pub.

Abby was already sitting at one of the small round tables and she greeted her when she walked in. It was strange being back in such a familiar environment. She'd regularly gone there for a meal with her parents when she was growing up and she'd had her first drink there in her eighteenth birthday. The landlord was different now though and the place had had a slight facelift but seeing Abby in there brought back a flood of memories.

They were waiting to be served when Molly's cousin, Duncan, came over hugging Molly tightly and asking her how she was. He was a couple of months older than her and was her dad's sister's son. One of three and the only one to have stayed local. They'd always got on well, with a shared interest in the morbid as well as sci fi, they'd spent many an hour playing and talking about Doctor Who as they'd grown up.

'Let me get these. What are you both having?'

Molly tried to protest but he insisted, he also railed at her when she asked for a lime and soda. 'Come on, you can't stay sober. Have a glass of wine or a pint…go on, I know you want to.'

Molly had been determined not to drink but she acknowledged that that had been more to support Sherlock. If he wasn't even with her one drink wasn't going to matter much.

Unfortunately one drink led to another and then another and before Molly knew it was almost closing time and she'd had far more than she had ever intended. There had been so much to catch up on, so many memories and even a couple of familiar faces who had stopped by to say hello and chat with her.

She had had a much better time than she had expected and almost felt guilty at having not really given Sherlock much thought. She needed to check on him when she got home but she was aware enough to know that her faculties were compromised and she'd struggle to even take his pulse let alone any further examination.

Duncan walked her home before heading onto his place and he reminded her of her promise to go to his house for a Sunday roast. She reassured him that she hadn't forgotten and they agreed a time for her and Sherlock to turn up. She tried not to think about Sherlock's possible reaction but this was one invite she was determined he'd attend. She knew that Duncan would find discussing cases fascinating and she didn't want to let him down.

The house was dark as she let herself in and she made her way through to the kitchen to make a cuppa and it was when she flicked on the light that her stomach fell. The kitchen was a tip...food packets strewn everywhere, some empty or half eaten and there on the side was a credit card and a rolled up piece of paper.

She made her way over praying that it wasn't what she thought it was but as she bent down to look along the surface of the kitchen top she could see the unmistakable grains of white powder. Sherlock had obviously brought a secret stash of cocaine with him and now it seemed he was high again.

There was a creak of a floorboard upstairs and she glanced up at the ceiling wishing she wasn't as drunk as she was. This was not going to go well.

**Well we knew it wasn't going to be plain sailing...all stories have highs and low and whilst Sherlock may be high he's hit something of a low. Trouble is Molly isn't in the best place to manage him...I see trouble ahead, how about you guys?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Could it be that I'm not making you wait the full week...well, it depends on whether anyone interrupts me whilst I'm editing and posting :). **

**Anyway, thank you all for your amazing comments, it seems you're all eager to see how the evening plays out...I hope you're still happy with me by the end (she says nervously).**

**Chapter 7**

Molly made her way upstairs wishing she hadn't drunk quite so much at the pub and wishing even more that tonight hadn't been the night that Sherlock fell off the wagon. He'd been doing so well but she'd been expecting something like this to happen so why had she had to go and have that extra glass of wine...alright three glasses.

Her head was definitely feeling a bit fuzzy as she pushed open his bedroom door only to find the room empty. For a moment she panicked that he might have left, that he was out there somewhere wandering the streets but then she heard a noise from her bedroom.

She turned on her heel and took the four strides over opening the door quickly just in time to see Sherlock rummaging through the drawers of her bedside cabinet. He was only lit by the dim bedside lamp and it sent shadows skittering across his face highlighting those perfect cheekbones.

He glanced up as she came in.

'Finally, you're back what took you so long? I've been here by myself, bored...had to make my own entertainment.'

'So I saw. If you were so bored why didn't you come with me to the pub. You were doing so damn well Sherlock and you threw it away... and where the hell did you get the cocaine from? I went through all your things, I know I did. '

She was feeling angry again and she came into the room as he stood, swaying slightly...or was it her...tapping the side of his nose with his finger.

'Ways and means Molly. I always get what I want.'

'Even if it kills you.'

He shrugged. 'Now you're just exaggerating. It wasn't a high enough dose for that, not by half. Just gave me a buzz, that's all. I'll tell you what else it gave me...'

He took a step towards her and for the first time she really looked at his face and what she saw made her heart thud in her chest and her mouth run dry. He looked aroused. There was lust and desire written all over his face.

She backed up until her thighs hit the dressing table but he kept on coming towards her until he was stood looking down on her mere inches away.

'Occupational hazard with cocaine is that sometimes it affects my sex drive.'

He brought his hand up to her neck and she knew he was feeling her pulse, she also knew it was beating ten to the dozen. She felt a flood of wetness just at the thought of giving in to him but at the same time, even in her alcohol muddled mind she knew it would be wrong.

He seemed to read her thoughts as he leant forwards until his mouth was by her ear. 'Why would it be wrong? I'm unattached, you're unattached, well bar your occasional shag with meat dagger. Though I'm seriously confused as to why you keep dipping back into that tepid pool. Is it the convenience? Because we both know that that dagger is more like a pen knife?' He laughed at his own joke but stopped when he realised Molly wasn't joining in. 'Come on Molly I know you want me and right here, right now I want you too so why not?'

Her hands had come up to his chest in a bid to push him away but she could feel the warmth of him through the same white shirt that he'd been wearing earlier and she felt so unbelievably aroused and conflicted at the same time. Had she not been drunk her answer would have been an emphatic no (at least she thought it would be) but she was drunk and she had always wanted him and here he was offering himself to her.

'How about just one kiss...try me out, then I'll walk away if you say no.'

His hand was on her thigh, already under the skirt of her dress, rubbing circles on her skin so close to her centre. He wasn't playing fair at all and they both knew it.

She swallowed heavily and watched as he slowly brought his face to hers. She saw his gaze fall to her lips and she couldn't help but run her tongue across them in anticipation. She had wanted to kiss him for so long and she just didn't have it in her at the moment to deny him.

When his mouth met hers she let out an involuntary moan and as she did his other hand moved from her neck to her breast, palming and kneading the soft flesh through her dress. His kiss was everything she had ever dreamed it would be. They moved in sync with each other and when his tongue entered her mouth she could taste him. He tasted of coffee and cigarettes and sex and she knew she was moaning again and opening her legs to accommodate his slim body.

She was almost sat on the dresser now and she heard the odd item falling to the floor and she hoped none of it was breakable but couldn't bring herself to care more than that.

He was moving forwards forcing her to lean backwards as she held on to him for balance but he never stopped kissing her. She was feeling dizzy with it now and more aroused than she would have thought possible.

Without even knowing how it happened she felt his fingers inside her knickers, rubbing her, feeling how wet she was, before moving lower. His thumb took their place on her clit as he slowly used his fingers to enter her and she had to stop kissing him so she could concentrate on the feelings he was creating within her.

His mouth moved to her neck, under her ear and she could feel him sucking on the skin and marking her, his hips starting to rock against her adding pressure to his thumb and fingers and Molly knew she was going to come. She was crying out an endless _ohgodohgodohgodohgod _and praying that Sherlock wouldn't stop what he was doing.

But he did, he withdrew his hand and purposefully licked his fingers slowly in front of her, watching her reaction and smirking. 'So, Molly, what's it to be? You taste so good and feel even better and I want to fuck ...can I?'

It wasn't fair, but life wasn't fair and in that moment Molly decided, for once, to choose what she wanted rather than what was right. 'Yes, God help me but yes.'

Then he was kissing her again and the chemistry and passion just seemed to ignite between them. Her hands were clawing at his shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing it from his shoulders, even as his own hands found the zip at the back of her dress and drew it down until it was gaping and starting to hang off her.

As she stood to remove it he moved them over to the bed undoing his jeans and pushing them down, along with his shorts, and kicking them away leaving him naked, his erection jutting out red and engorged and already leaking. The sight of him made her mouth water. She herself was just left wearing a pair of drenched knickers. He pushed her back onto the bed and hooked his fingers into the sides of the pants but before he drew them down her legs he pressed his nose against them and inhaled deeply.

'Fuck Molly you smell amazing. I need to taste you properly, all of you.'

She moaned and bit down on the back of her hand as he dragged the damp material down her legs before tossing them behind him onto the floor then he was smelling her again, letting his nose rub against her clit in a way that just made her keen loudly; she needed more.

Without realising it she heard herself begging him for some kind of release. She vaguely wondered how loud she was being and whether the neighbours could hear but decided she didn't give a damn. All that mattered was Sherlock and how he was making her feel.

He sucked on her clit and when she bucked her hips into the air he used one hand to firmly press her back down into the mattress. The span of his hands almost reached from one hip to the other. She felt him growl against her centre as he let his tongue slide inside her, in and out, in and out, fucking her with it in a way that made her muscles spasm. She was so close it was almost painful. As his mouth moved back to her clit he pressed his fingers inside her once more and she could feel her orgasm starting but he wasn't finished yet. Even as she started to cry out, clutching at his hair with her hands he withdrew his fingers and instead pressed one against her anus, using her own juices to lubricate it and he sucked on her clit hard.

Molly came so hard that she thought she might actually have passed out. For a good minute she was oblivious to anything other than her body and where he was touching her. By the time her first orgasm had started to taper down she knew she was already building towards a second and this time she needed him inside her fully.

She pulled roughly on his hair until he crawled up her body and she crashed her lips against his tasting herself on them. Already she could feel his cock, rock hard and nudging against her entrance and she used one hand to guide him in relishing the feel of him as he slowly filled her, taking his time when all she wanted was for him to slam into her.

She needed to take charge. She wanted the feeling that that orgasm had just given her again and so she pushed at him, gesturing for him to roll over.

He complied, taking her with him, still intimately connected but this time she was in control and she ground down onto him until he was as deep as he could go.

It also meant she could see his face, see his expressions and seeing him just made it feel so much more real. She was fucking Sherlock and it was glorious. She bent her head to kiss him again, feeling his hand in her hair, his blunt nails scraping over her scalp as she used her hips to set a hard pace. She didn't want to make love, that wasn't what this was about. She wanted to fuck him, she wanted to hear him come, to see his expression and she wanted to take more of her own pleasure from it.

She braced one hand against the headboard so she could press down harder on him, feeling the smooth head of his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her toes curl and her mind white out. His mouth was now on her right breast, his teeth scraping against her nipple making her moan repeatedly. His left hand was squeezing her buttock pulling her against him and she knew he was starting to get close himself. She loved hearing the sounds he made, every groan and swear word but best of all was when he said her name in that low, familiar baritone.

'God, Molly...fuck I'm coming, I'm coming, come with me...'

She felt her muscles contract around him as she cried out, wishing she could see his face as he came himself but she was too lost in her own orgasm. The second was as powerful as the first and this time they rode it out together before collapsing in a sweat soaked heap, still kissing and juddering with aftershocks every so often.

Molly had quite simply never had sex like it ever before.

**Oh oh, good or bad? Hot or not? You decide.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I was very pleased to see that the overwhelming consensus was that the sex was hot and Molly May have made the wrong decision but she certainly enjoyed her choice. You were also worried about the morning after the night before and all the consequences. Shall we see how it went?**

**Chapter 8**

Molly fell asleep almost straight away in a drunken, satiated haze. She vaguely knew that what they'd done was ten shades of wrong but the thing was...in that moment...it just didn't feel wrong, it had felt so, so right.

If she had thought that that was the end of things though she was happily mistaken. She woke up in the middle of the night to find Sherlock spooning her and gently massaging her right breast. This time when she pushed back, feeling his erection against her backside, he didn't pull away or make any sarcastic comments instead he just rolled her over until she was lying on her front covering her body with his own.

His mouth was on the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, and his hand, that had been on her breast, travelled down until it ended up between her legs rubbing her in a way that had her moaning out loud.

She could feel his cock pressing into her backside and the images it put into her still sleep filled mind had her widening her legs and pushing up against him in encouragement.

He lets his fingers dip into her and she knew her moans were getting louder as he sucked the skin at her neck into his warm mouth, marking her.

She was on the verge of her orgasm when he removed his hand and pulled her hips up just enough that he could slowly, teasingly slide into her from behind and the feeling of being filled by him again had her inner muscles already clenching and unclenching. The whole experience was overwhelming her and all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and give into it.

The size of him and the positioning meant he could go deeper than he had before and it was on the brink of being painful but her orgasm was still building as she dug her hand into the edge of the mattress holding on as he started to move faster. His hand moved to cover one of her own, their fingers linking together, and the intimacy of the gesture tipped her over the edge into another incredible orgasm. By the time she started to come back down Sherlock lifted her hips until she was on her knees and then he was slamming into her before letting out a roar as he came to his own completion; his fingers digging into the flesh on her hips.

'Fuck...Molly...that felt too good.'

He pulled out and flopped onto the bed at her side and this time she got up and made her way to the bathroom to clean up and also to get herself a glass of water. Her hangover was beginning to kick in and she knew she needed water and lots of it.

By the time she got back to the bedroom Sherlock was asleep. She found a night shirt and pulled it on before crawling back under the covers. The enormity of what they had done was beginning to hit her and she felt a little ill...whether from the alcohol or their actions she wasn't sure. All she kept thinking was that he'd been high and she should have walked away...the last thing she should have done was give into him, no matter how tempting it was. She was, in effect, his doctor and it was deeply inappropriate to have any form of relationship with a patient.

She lay there in the dark both stressing about the situation and relishing the aches and pains in her body. No matter how badly she thought of herself she couldn't deny that it had been incredibly satisfying and god help her...she wanted him more now than she ever had.

It must have been a good hour before she fell asleep but fall asleep she did and it was daylight when she awoke only to find she was alone in the bed. It only took a moment before the events of the night before came rushing back to her and she groaned, covering her eyes with her arm. She almost felt afraid to confront Sherlock but she knew they needed to discuss what had happened.

She slowly got up, feeling the almost pleasant burn between her legs that told her she had been well used the night before and she made her way into the bathroom for a shower. The hot water woke her up further and she had to admit she felt better as she dried off and got dressed, pulling on her jeans and a thin jumper. A good cup of tea and maybe a couple of aspirin and she'd be back to her normal self.

She made her way down the stairs and found Sherlock sitting on the settee with his laptop. He was wearing his dressing gown and from the look of it not much else and she had a sudden flash back to the night before when he'd kicked off his jeans and stood in front of her naked with that gorgeous erection jutting out from his body. Just the thought of it made her blush as well as making her mouth water.

He glanced over at her and then pointed to the clock which showed it was after eleven. 'It's past time for my next injection, I was about to come and wake you.'

Molly wasn't sure what she had expected from Sherlock but this wasn't it. She felt anger and disgust rising inside her and all she could think was that he had used her. She knew on some level that that was an unfair accusation, after all he hadn't made her any promises and he hadn't done anything she hadn't consented to or enjoyed but she just felt humiliated.

'Is that it? Is that all you can say?'

He huffed and turned a little to face her an exasperated look on his face. 'What did you expect me to say? That I was in love with you and we could live happily ever after. Hardly...you know me better than that.'

Molly swallowed heavily and saw red, anger swamping any hurt that she knew she was going to feel eventually.

'I do don't I. God, I was stupid to have agreed to have sex with you. This whole situation is fucked up and I refuse to be part of it any longer. I'm going out and when I get back I'll be contacting Mycroft to sort out another babysitter for you...because I quit.'

Sherlock just rolled his eyes and spat out his next words. 'Fine. Just do my injection before you go.'

Molly took a deep breath and closed her eyes before she turned back to him.

'Given you took cocaine last night we need to wait before you have any more methadone. Mixing the two can be dangerous. Looks like you'll just have to live with the consequences of your actions for once.'

She shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her bag before she could change her mind or before he could insult her further...she just needed to get away.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock winced as she slammed the door behind her. His nerves were already on edge and he knew it was only going to get worse as the day progressed now he knew he wasn't going to get his injection.

For the first ten minutes he railed against his situation cursing Molly and Mycroft and John for forcing him into this predicament but then his mind traitorously went back to the night before and he remembered just how good he and Molly were together. And it wasn't just the sex, she had been there for him over the last few days...hell, the last few years...putting up with him, calling him out when he was being stupid and supporting him when he needed it.

He threw the laptop to one side and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his hands around his legs and he let his forehead rest on his knees as he tried to calm his breathing and his shaking. He took a juddering breath and suddenly found himself feeling upset...emotional even. He didn't want her to leave...he needed her.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly left the cottage emerging into a grey and overcast sky that looked as though it was threatening rain. She'd left her coat inside but just couldn't bring herself to go back in and get it.

Instead she slowly made her way up the high street pulling her phone out of her bag as she went. She rang Abby to see if she fancied meeting up, she needed to talk to someone and Abby had always been a good listener. Thankfully she not only answered but was at a loose end herself so they agreed to meet in the village's only cafe in twenty minutes. Needless to say Molly got there first and was enjoying her first coffee along with the aspirin that she'd picked up from the village store on the way.

She saw Abby arriving and went to hold the door open as her friend manoeuvred her wheelchair in and situated it opposite where Molly was sitting. They placed an order for some food and then Abby turned to Molly and cocked her head on one side.

'So, go on. What's happened? You look like hell and I don't think it's just a hangover.'

Molly could feel tears welling up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had cried too many tears over Sherlock in the past and she refused to cry more now.

'God, Abby, it's a nightmare. You know I said that Sherlock was ill and convalescing...'

Her friend smirked. 'Yes and he accused you of locking him up and pumping him full of drugs...I take it he's detoxing?'

Molly looked at her friend in surprise. 'Yes, but how did you...'

Abby sighed. 'My husband, he wasn't just a drunk he was an addict as well so I'm used to recognising the signs. Do I take it last night was a bad night then...was he crashing?'

Molly shook her head. 'No, the opposite. He must have had a stash hidden because when I came home he'd taken cocaine and was high. We...that is...well, I was drunk and...'

She trailed off too embarrassed to admit what had happened but she could see by the look on Abby's face that she might have guessed.

'No...don't tell me you slept with him.' She paused and Molly just nodded her head, too ashamed to even look her friend in the eye.

They paused their conversation for a moment whilst their sandwiches and Abby's drink was brought over but as soon as the waitress was out of earshot Abby leant in.

'I can't say that this was a good thing because you were both fucked up but god, Molly, from what you said you've been wanting to get with this guy for like...forever.'

She took a bite of her food and then an evil smile spread across her face. 'So, go on. How was it?'

Molly glanced up and couldn't help but start to smile in return, it was like they were teenagers all over again. 'It was good...no, more than good. Abby it was probably the best sex I've ever had.'

'You were lucky...cocaine used to make my fella crap in bed if he could even manage it at all. And you're sure there isn't more to this than a high, drunken, one night stand? I mean from what you said the other day and last night this guy has never seemed interested before and then all of a sudden he wants sex. Maybe, the drugs just loosened him up a bit...made him do something he wanted to do but couldn't before.'

Molly sighed and picked at her sandwich. 'I would love to believe that but you should have heard him this morning. Love is just something he doesn't understand and I don't think he ever will. I just need to leave...go back to London. It's too hard being this close to him and if I stay it's just going to destroy whatever friendship we have left.'

Abby put her hand over Molly's and squeezed. 'Well, I'm not going to lie, I'm really going to miss you if you leave. It's been like a breath of fresh air having you here and I've loved catching up. Just promise me we won't lose touch again.'

Molly had no qualms about making such a promise and the two of them discussed the possibility of Abby coming to stay in London for a holiday whilst they ate their food and finished their drinks.

Molly knew at that point that she ought to go back to the cottage to pack and ring Mycroft but when Abby invited her back to her house to see her parents, whom Molly hadn't seen in over fifteen years, she couldn't resist accepting. She knew she was procrastinating but she just didn't care.

**Our Molly is on the verge of leaving and Sherlock is being an ass…is there anything that can be done to heal the rift? What would you recommend? **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, firstly I'm sorry if anyone has been reviewing and not receiving a response from me. For some reason my life just feels very busy at the moment and I don't quite know why. I'm coming up to the summer hols here in the UK and I'm hoping to get some proper balance back…including actually getting on and writing something to pick up once this fic is finished. Keep your fingers crossed for me ****J****.**

**Chapter 9**

By the time Molly left Abby's home it was getting dark. She made the short walk back to the cottage with her hangover fully gone and her resolve to go back to London strengthened. She just needed to pack and to ring Mycroft.

To her surprise the lights in the cottage were on and the curtains closed. It seemed that Sherlock was up and downstairs and she couldn't help the feeling of nervousness that washed over her as she put her key in the latch but when she opened the door she couldn't have been more surprised.

The front room had been tidied and it even looked as though someone might have put the vac around, on top of that she could hear a smashing sound followed by swearing from the kitchen.

She hung her bag up on one of the coat hooks and made her way through only to find Sherlock barefoot but showered and dressed in jeans and a shirt. More surprisingly though he appeared to be cooking.

He looked up at her as she leant, bemused, against the door frame watching as he swept up a broken glass.

'You shouldn't do that with bare feet, you might get cut.'

He smiled...and for once it seemed like a genuine smile although she could see the strain of his withdrawal around his eyes. 'I know, my mother used to tell me the same thing. Would you...um...would you like a cup of tea? I'm making us some pasta but it will be another ten minutes.'

She frowned in confusion. 'Sherlock, what's going on?'

He stood up and deposited the broken shards of glass into the bin before turning back to her. He looked almost sheepish...not a look she was used to seeing on him.

'I want to apologise Molly. My behaviour this morning was out of order. You...you're just here trying to help me and I know I'm not showing my gratitude, I just...I find it hard. It's always easier to push people away than to show them that I need them.'

She felt the nerves flutter again in her stomach as she took a step into the kitchen. 'So, what are you saying?'

He put the dustpan and brush down by the bin and walked closer to her. 'I'm saying that I need you Molly. I...I can't do this without you. I'm not going to apologise for last night because that would make it sound like I regret it and I don't regret it. I don't want you to either...but...'

Molly looked away from him but nodded. 'It's OK I get it, it can't happen again.' She paused trying to gather her thoughts. He'd completely thrown her for a loop with the turnaround in his behaviour.

It was Sherlock who broke the silence. 'I know you said you were leaving but...well, I'm hoping you'll stay...give me another chance. I know I don't deserve it but...I don't think I can do this without you.'

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. He was a master of manipulation when he needed to be. Was that all this was?

He turned back to flick the switch on the kettle and she watched him dropping the teabag into a mug and pouring in the water when it was ready; his hands shaking slightly as he did. Memories from the night before washed over her and she felt her heart ache at the thought of leaving him...at the thought of him descending into drug use again.

She found she had to sit down at the kitchen table before her legs gave way from under her. It didn't matter if this was just manipulation...whatever it was it had worked. She was going to give him another chance.

He came over and placed her mug in front of her then he sat in the chair opposite, waiting for her to speak. His eyes looked more green than blue in this light and she had to look away to not get caught in them.

'Fine, I'll give it another go. It's just...if I'm going to stay things have to change. No more sleeping in my bed...or wandering around naked...and if you have any more drugs in your possession...ANY...you HAVE to tell me now. This whole thing is over if you get high again.'

He closed his eyes and sighed but then he stood and walked past her gesturing for her to follow. He went over to the settee and pointed to his shoes.

'The cocaine was in the left heel...there's more in the right heel. That's it...I promise.'

Molly knelt down and picked up the shoe checking out the heel more closely and realising that whilst it was stiff she could twist it to reveal a secret compartment. Inside was a small bag of white powder. She took it out and looked over her shoulder at Sherlock. He just turned and made his way back into the kitchen whilst she moved to lock it up with the methadone. It also reminded her that he needed his next dose...he was obviously suffering after all these hours even though he was trying not to let her know it.

She took out a new dose and then closed and locked the safe.

When she walked into the kitchen with the needle he couldn't help but show the relief on his face and his hands shook more violently as he pulled up his shirt sleeve ready for her to administer the dose. They sat down at the small table and she took hold of his arm, trying to ignore the way her heart sped up at such a small physical interaction with him. Her mind immediately flashing back to the feeling of his hands on her body. It wasn't going to be easy staying with him but what could she do? He needed her and she wouldn't let him down.

She let him enjoy the feeling the methadone gave him and after she'd disposed of the needle she checked on the pasta and sauce. It was simple but looked delicious and there was even a salad in a bowl in the side. She shook her head in disbelief, how did he always confound her expectations? He had never made her any food...the nearest he'd ever come was bringing her a bag of quavers one time and offering to buy her some chips.

She sensed him moving up behind her and her heart beat sped up again at the nearness of him. He reached past her and pulled down two plates from the cupboard and she moved out of his way, carrying the salad over to the table.

A couple of minutes later and they were sat eating their food and Molly couldn't help but close her eyes and moan at the perfection of the sauce. She missed the strange look that Sherlock gave her as she did and the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down momentarily.

'God, Sherlock this is delicious. You should cook more often. Where did you learn to make this?'

He shrugged as he twisted a piece of pasta. 'I didn't, but it's just simple chemistry really...easy to work out what goes well and what doesn't. I'm glad you like it.'

'Like it, I love it.'

They didn't talk much for the rest of the meal but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Molly mentioned her cousin's invite to dinner the following night and whilst she saw Sherlock grimace a little his nodded his head in acquiescence.

Once they'd finished Molly washed up and Sherlock made them both another drink and then they went to sit in the small front room. As she sat down she yawned, feeling the weight of all the day's emotions catching up with her. She needed her bed and a good night's sleep.

'So, what do you want to do tomorrow?' She tucked her feet up under her as she took a sip of her drink.

At this Sherlock's eyes lit up a bit. 'Greg has emailed me through some cold cases from the local area. I contemplated trying to solve the body in the tree but it wouldn't be very satisfactory. Whatever conclusion I came to there would never be enough evidence to prove anything. No, I need something more current. Something that will really occupy me. I'll probably go through the files tonight to see whether anything looks worth pursuing.'

His energy just made Molly feel more tired and so she made her excuses and left him to it. As she made her way up the stairs he moved to where she had been sitting on the settee and was already switching on the laptop. It was good to see him distracted by work again...he'd need that to help him as she started to lower the dose of his methadone.

When she got to her bedroom she was once again surprised. The bed had been stripped and remade. She smiled and shook her head wondering how long this new found domesticity would last; she suspected it wouldn't be long.

Ten minutes later and she gave up on her book, her eyes just weren't taking in the words. She turned out her light and snuggled under the covers and as her eyes closed the only images that came to mind were her and Sherlock the night before and what they had done in this very bed. She groaned quietly and rolled over but she knew it would be a while before she'd be able to sleep. Part of her wished she hadn't put the embargo on him sleeping in her bed but she also knew that she needed some boundaries. Her head knew there was no hope for them but her body ached to be touched by him again and with no other distractions her mind just kept dwelling on the details; how he had tasted, the way he kissed, the feel of his calloused hands on her breasts. It was with these thoughts swirling through her head that she finally fell asleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

The morning came round soon enough and Molly was glad to be able to wake up without feeling either hung over or guilty. She lay dozing for a few minutes enjoying the sound of the birds singing outside before finally getting up and padding her way through to the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

There didn't seem to be any sign of Sherlock but the bedroom door to the smaller bedroom was closed and when she went downstairs there were signs that he had been up until the early hours; coffee cups and even half a sandwich left out on the side next to the laptop that was charging up on the coffee table in the front room.

She gathered up the dirty pots and took them through into the kitchen before making herself some tea and brunch. It was after eleven o'clock and as the day was warm she ate in the garden relishing the sun on her face knowing that Autumn would soon set in and the days would turn colder.

She was on her second cup of tea when Sherlock finally emerged, for once wearing an actual dressing gown and pyjama bottoms although the gown was open and therefore giving her a good view of his chest and flat stomach.

She swallowed heavily but didn't say anything as he joined her squinting at the sun and sipping on another cup of coffee. He was making an effort and she appreciated it.

After a moment she asked him whether he had found any cases worth following up.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Not really. Looks like we'll have to find something else to do to distract us.'

Molly bit her lip and tried to ignore the bad voice in her head that was telling her just what exactly they could get up to. He needed genuine suggestions not school girl fantasies but she knew she was blushing all the same.

**So he wasn't down on bended knee begging (unless you count when he was cleaning up the broken glass) but he has told Molly he needs her and she has laid down some boundaries. Question is was it enough for you?**


	10. Chapter 10

**So many of you have smutty minds, I wonder where you got them from? I'm sure I've never encouraged it (whistles). Anyway, no smut for now but you never know there may be more along the way.**

**Chapter 10**

They ended up going out for another walk, this time heading out of the village in the opposite direction and along the side of the river come stream that ran through the centre of the village. Sherlock's good mood of the previous evening seemed to have given way to melancholy and Molly's efforts to bring him out of himself yielded little success.

For a while they walked along in silence, the only noise being that of the water moving by at the side of them. It was Sherlock who broke it.

'You know the worse thing about the last twelve months...aside from Mary's death that is?'

Molly glanced up at him but he kept his eyes on the path ahead...almost as if he was talking to himself rather than her.

'No, what?'

'It's the knowledge that I was betrayed by my own mind. It was me that repressed the knowledge of my sister and what she had done. Not Mycroft, not my parents, not Eurus...me. I betrayed myself. And all I can think is what else am I repressing? What else has my brain decided is too big for me to cope with?'

He stopped walking and turned towards the water but Molly could tell by the way that his voice had caught in his throat at that last question just how much this was affecting him.

She put her hand on his arm wanting him to know that he wasn't alone.

'I wish I had answers for you Sherlock, I really do but all I have are platitudes and references to medical studies, the first of which you won't want and the latter you've probably already read.'

He nodded once but as she came along side him he turned his face away and her heart clenched in her chest as she realised there were tears on his cheek. She had never seen him crying...not when he thought he was leaving them all after faking his death and not even when they had buried Mary. She knew just how good he was at covering his emotions and it was probably all that effort at stoicism that had led to his drug use. No one could go through what he had been through and not have it damage them somehow.

Her next move was purely instinctive. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him to her.

'Hey, it's OK. You have every right to be angry and upset. You need to let yourself feel these emotions.'

For a moment she thought he wasn't going to respond and hug her back but just as she was about to pull away his arms came up around her back and then he was holding her as tightly as she was holding him. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and as he let out a sob it was as though his legs gave out from under him and he fell to his knees taking Molly down with him.

As he cried she tried to sooth him rubbing his back and whispering that it was OK and to let it all out.

They must have knelt there for a good five minutes before he finally pulled away from her and sat back on his heels brushing his tears away with the back of his hand. He looked more child like than she had ever seen him; open and vulnerable and hurting but she also knew that it was probably necessary. He needed to let his feelings out and start to come to terms with them before he could ever start to heal himself.

He let out a rueful laugh. 'It seems I am as human as everyone else.'

She smiled and put her hand over his where it lay on his knee. 'It seems you are. Welcome to the human race Sherlock.'

Together they stood with Sherlock offering Molly his hand to help her up. Without him even seeming to notice he held onto it as they slowly made their way back to the cottage, his fingers interlocked with her own. It felt warm and solid and natural and it made Molly's heart swell with love and empathy for him. He seemed so lost...no wonder he'd looked for something to support him...she just wished she had been able to be there for him earlier but she'd had her own pain to deal with over that phone call.

When they got back to the cottage he made his excuses and went to lie down. Molly checked the time, seeing that they had a couple of hours before going to her cousin's house for dinner. She made herself a drink, sat down and tried to read one of her books but once again she was too distracted to concentrate on it.

She stared out of the small front window instead as she nursed her drink and thought through everything that had happened to them. The pain of that call was still seared in her memory. It didn't matter that she knew why he'd done it; that he'd had no choice. All she knew was how hurt she had felt, how used and angry she'd been when he'd hung up without another word.

She wondered, not for the first time, whether she'd be better off moving out of London. Maybe she could come back here...or somewhere similar. Look for a pathology job in one of the nearby towns...it was a small pool of people in her field of expertise and she knew that with her background and professional reputation it wouldn't take her too long to find something else.

Her stomach turned over though at the thought of never seeing Sherlock again. It didn't matter how he felt, she was in too deep. He'd irrevocably changed her life and she didn't think she'd ever be able to walk away from him permanently. It would be like cutting off her own arm...even just the thought if it had her shying away from the idea.

She finally glanced at the time and saw she was running late for getting herself ready and she wondered whether Sherlock would still want to join her.

Quietly she made her way up to the top floor and she gently knocked on his bedroom door.

'Come in.'

She opened it and let her eyes adjust in the dim light, seeing Sherlock lying on his back with one arm over his eyes. His shirt had ridden up leaving a tantalising sliver of skin above the waistband of his jeans and she found her eyes drawn to it.

'Sorry, I just came to see if you still wanted to come with me to my cousin's house?'

'Not really.'

'Oh.' Molly felt her heart sink a little.

Sherlock sat up suddenly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He ruffled his hands through his hair. '...but I will. I said I would and it's not as though I have much else going on. Plus it's time for my fix...make it a good one Molly.'

She rolled her eyes and shook her head but turned to go back downstairs knowing he'd be following her. 'Sorry but it's time we started to reduce the dose. I'd like to wean you off it over the next two weeks.'

Sherlock groaned behind her. 'Really, do we have to? I thought maybe I could just put off the pain for just a bit longer...maybe for another year or two.'

She chuckled at his lame joke whilst she prepared the latest injection wincing at the track marks she was creating on his right arm.

'Don't worry about them Molly, they're far neater than the ones on my left. I'm afraid I get impatient at times and my aim wasn't always that great.'

She pursed her lips at the implications of what he was saying and he must have noticed because he changed the subject. 'Tell me about your cousin.'

As she spoke his head fell back on the settee and he opened his mouth in a silent groan as his eyes closed...the drug hitting his system fast.

'We're the same age...grew up together. I didn't have any siblings and his were much older so it meant we were quite close as kids. We both liked Doctor Who.' She chuckled to herself at the memories. 'I'm a bit sad that we haven't seen more of each other...my fault as much as his. Anyway, he's happily married with two children; a little girl called Lucy who's six and a newborn son called Finley.'

'He sounds positively boring.'

Molly punched Sherlock lightly on the chest and he opened his eyes and smiled at her and she could see how undilated his pupils were. 'Don't worry I'll be on my best behaviour...scouts honour.'

She laughed. 'You were never a scout...were you?'

He raised an eyebrow and sat up, rolling down his shirt sleeve. 'Can you honestly see me as a scout Molly?'

She shrugged and smirked. 'Oh I don't know, I bet you would have looked dead cute in the uniform.'

He let out a chuckle as Molly stood up.

'Right, I'm off for a shower and I'll be ready in about half an hour. Be good.'

'Never Molly, never. I'm no angel.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

He watched as she made her way up the stairs and then he lay down on the settee enjoying the feel of the drugs in his bloodstream, letting his mind trip on it. It was always such a relief to not have to try to control his thoughts or cope with the constant buzz of information bombarding his senses. When he was high he could just drift above it all, conscious of it but not consumed by it.

He let his thoughts just wander, remembering back to how safe Molly had made him feel as he broke down about his concerns. A year ago he would have been embarrassed and angry with himself but it had just felt cathartic and necessary. Since getting to know his sister he had been much more open to acknowledging his feelings and letting them out. He no longer wanted to be emotionless...not now that he had seen where it could lead.

His mind roamed back to Molly but this time he was remembering the feel of her against him when he'd climaxed the other night during sex. Her body had been a revelation to him, she had seemed to be made just for him...her breasts soft and perfectly shaped for his hands, her mouth pliant and kissable, and her quim had been hot and tight and wet sucking his come from him.

'Hey, are you ready?'

Her voice shocked him back into consciousness. He hadn't even heard her come back down, let alone walking over to him. He was immediately aware that his body had reacted to his thoughts and he sat up quickly, coughing and trying to clear his mind of thoughts of her naked.

'Yes, I'm nearly ready. Give me five minutes.'

He went upstairs to the bathroom and splashed some cold water over his face. Now was not the time to start objectifying his friend.

A few minutes later and they left the house with him back in his more familiar suit and with his Belstaff for warmth. He might be trying to make himself feel more like his old self but that didn't mean that it was working.

**So, thoughts of Molly and sex are starting to plague him. How long before his resolve to stay out of a relationship breaks. Hope you're still on board and enjoying this and apologies that I haven't updated sooner xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm so glad you liked the emotion of the last chapter. I always like to see the journey that Sherlock is going on; to make his change of heart/realisation about his feelings seem real and meaningful. So, let's continue that shall we.**

**(PS damn Ben was looking fine at Comic-con...I love that he's back to a good weight and his hair is long enough to run your hands through ;)).**

**Chapter 11**

Molly's cousin, Duncan, and his wife greeted them both warmly; inviting them into their home. The house had originally belonged to Molly's grandmother so it was fairly familiar although they had modernised the kitchen and bathroom and redecorated throughout.

They were led into the front room where they were greeted by the older child, Lucy, who also introduced them to her row of cuddly toys. Sherlock was quiet but not rude and Molly kept her fingers crossed that it would last for the whole evening.

She spent the first twenty minutes cuddling their four month old son, Finley, and catching up with his parents. She hadn't had a chance to meet the new addition to the Hooper family and she was fascinated to see features on the baby's face that reminded her of her own father. She could feel that familiar swell of maternal desire in her breast and it seemed doubly hard with Sherlock sitting less than a foot away from her on the settee. It was the same feeling that she had felt when Rosie was first born; a deep desire for her own child mixed with regret because she knew it would never happen. There was no changing the fact that Sherlock was the only man she would truly love and even though they had now had sex (a fact that now a day or so had passed seemed more unreal with every passing moment) it didn't make a relationship any more likely; if anything it made it seem further away.

She didn't notice Sherlock watching her with the baby, his eyes narrowing slightly as he committed the image to memory. If he had been asked in that moment why he found this image so fascinating he wouldn't have been able to answer but he just did. He felt a compelling sense that this was something he needed to remember.

As they got closer to the meal time Duncan took baby Finley up to bed, whilst his wife Elaine finished the food in the kitchen. Molly offered to help but it was declined with both stating that the best help was keeping little Lucy occupied whilst the other jobs were being done. So that was what she did. She sat on the floor next to Lucy, with her back leaning against the settee, and she asked the little girl about her school and her friends, laughing at some of her answers and loving a chance to get to know her a bit better.

It wasn't long though before the little girl turned things around and started questioning her aunt a bit more.

'So, is Sherlock your boyfriend?'

Molly blushed and glanced up at Sherlock, sat on the settee to the side of her. He just seemed to be watching them both with an inscrutable look on his face.

'Umm...no, we're just friends.'

Lucy let out a slightly disbelieving 'hmm' and then went on. 'But you're living together.'

'Just sharing a house that's all.'

'So, you've never kissed then?'

'I...err...' Molly blushed and floundered over her answer glancing at Sherlock once again. This time he was smirking a little and he moved to sit next to Molly on the floor.

It was him who answered the little girl. 'Yes, yes we have.'

'And have you shared a bed?'

This time Molly was outright shocked at the little girl's question. 'Lucy!'

In her turn she stared at her aunt with a slightly haughty look on her face. 'Mummy says only people who love each other share a bed when they're adults.'

Sherlock chuckled and nodded. 'Yes, we've shared a bed.'

Lucy looked back and forth between them as if making a decision. 'You must be boyfriend and girlfriend then, you just don't know it yet.'

Now it was Molly's turn to laugh at the child's reasoning. If only life was that simple.

She was about to say something but Lucy got in there first, aiming it at Sherlock. 'You should kiss auntie Molly.'

Sherlock stifled a laugh and shook his head. 'I don't think she'd want me to.'

'Yes, she would...wouldn't you auntie Molly. I remember you telling mummy last time we saw you that you loved Sherlock. I remember coz it's a funny name. I thought it was a girl's name. So, see she does want you to kiss her...and you said you'd done it before.'

Molly sighed and knew she was still blushing. She glanced at the door wishing that one of Lucy's parents would magically appear.

'Listen Lucy it's really not...'

'Go on, I double dare you. Are you scared?' She said the latter to Sherlock again who frowned.

'No, I...'

'Go on then.'

He looked at Molly and then shrugged. 'Shall we? It might be the quickest way to shut this one up.'

Lucy grinned and clapped excitedly, kneeling up to watch.

Molly shook her head in disbelief and hoped that Sherlock couldn't hear how loud or fast her heartbeat was as he slowly leant towards her. She saw his eyes move to her lips and his tongue quickly wash over his own; it was almost as if the actions were taking place in slow motion. She closed her eyes just as his lips touched hers and she felt as if the rest of the world just fell away.

His lips were soft and he applied just enough pressure to make her open her mouth to him. She had expected a brief peck but as his hand moved to cup her face she felt his mouth moving against her own. Even though they had kissed when they'd had sex together this felt so much more real. She was stone cold sober, there were no distractions, nothing but the two of them...and Lucy, squealing excitedly.

Then just as she was losing herself in it he pulled away. She knew her eyes stayed closed for just a moment too long because when she opened them he was looking at her with a slightly amused look on his face and she realised that Lucy was giggling and clapping her hands with delight.

'See, I knew you were boyfriend and girlfriend. I've got a boyfriend at school, he didn't want to be my boyfriend but I told him that he had to be. Mummy said I should give him a choice but that seems lame...'

She rattled on with her story but Molly was barely listening. She was intently not looking at Sherlock but concentrating instead on one of the fluffy toys that she'd picked up to try to distract herself. She was surprised by just how much his kiss seemed to have affected her. Her breathing felt erratic and her palms felt sweaty and all she wanted was to be able to kiss him again.

It was a relief when her cousin came back in and told Lucy it was time for bed before offering them both a glass of wine. Sherlock declined and asked for water but Molly just found herself nodding her head and thanking him. She knew she ought to support Sherlock in not drinking but she needed something to calm her nerves.

When they finally all sat down to their evening meal Molly sat back and let Sherlock pick up some of the conversation. Duncan had engaged Sherlock's interest by asking him details of some of his more lurid cases. Like her he wasn't phased by the gory aspects of some of them and he just laughed on the couple of occasions when his wife screwed up her nose and protested that it was too much.

'Well, I can certainly see why you and our Molly became friends. She's always been a bit of a morbid one ever since we were little. Her nickname at school was Morticia after the Addams family.'

Sherlock looked at Molly and smiled, covering her hand with his own and squeezing it lightly. 'I have been very fortunate to know Molly and to have her affection and her loyalty. I've never deserved it and she would have well been within her rights to tell me to piss off far more than she has.'

Molly smiled and ducked her head as Sherlock removed his hand and turned back to her cousin. 'She has saved my life on more than one occasion. I can honestly say that if it wasn't for Molly I wouldn't be here now.'

She found herself frowning and wondering what he meant but the conversation moved on and she didn't get an opportunity to ask him about it.

The evening ended reasonably early. Molly knew that as parents of a newborn they needed their sleep plus Sherlock's sociability was starting to flag. He turned sullenly silent during dessert and a couple of times she caught him rolling his eyes and huffing; she just hoped their hosts hadn't noticed.

It was as they walked back to the cottage that Molly couldn't resist quizzing him about his comment over her saving his life. 'The only time I'm aware of was when I helped you fake your death but you said more than one occasion...what did you mean?'

Sherlock sighed and crooked his elbow so that Molly could link her arm through his. For some reason he liked having her close by him.

'When I was shot by Mary you were the first person I saw when I went into my mind palace. You were there telling me I would almost certainly die and that I needed to focus. I seem to recall you slapping me quite a bit.' He chuckled as he looked down at her and she couldn't help but remember the time he'd come into the lab high and how she'd ended up slapping him; desperate to try to get through to him...not that it had worked or they wouldn't be here now.

'Anyway, you helped me to make decisions that ultimately saved my life.'

Molly bit her lip and giggled. 'Ooh, so I'm in your mind palace then. I feel a bit honoured.'

He grinned back at her. 'So you should be, I don't just let anyone reside in there...although I have to admit to being surprised that Anderson snuck in.' He frowned as he said the latter and Molly shook her head knowing the ongoing antagonism between the two men which was obviously now a friendship of sorts.

She let go of his arm as they reached the cottage so she could unlock the door. 'Do you fancy a cuppa before bed?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'No, to be honest I feel a bit shaky. It's probably because of the lower dose of methadone so I think I'll just go to bed.'

'OK, sleep tight.' She watched him make his way up the stairs before she made her way into the kitchen and as she waited for the kettle to boil she couldn't help but cast her mind back to the moment he'd kissed her. It really didn't help her in her bid to distance herself from him physically and the fact that he was a really good kisser helped her even less.

She sat downstairs in the peace and quiet as she drank her cocoa and she pondered her time at the cottage. They'd been there just over a week and there had been some good moments and some bad ones. She still couldn't quite decide what box to put the other night in. In some ways it was the fulfilment of a long held desire and in others it was her moment of greatest shame. The worst thing was that just thinking about it had her feeling horny again. Whatever else it was it had been mind blowing sex and with the man of her dreams and for that reason she didn't want to forget any of it.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip; sighing as she let the memories wash over her. This week with Sherlock had only heightened her feelings for him and she knew without doubt that at some point they were going to be going back to London and it would all come crashing down.

She stood and took a deep breath and then went to put her dirty cup into the sink in the kitchen stopping and listening as she heard Sherlock moving around in his room. It looked like he wasn't settling very well. Her heart ached for him in that moment. Giving up smoking had been bad enough for her when she'd been in her twenties...she had no idea how hard giving up drugs were. Damn it all, she couldn't even give him up so who was she to help with an addiction problem.

With these thoughts swirling around in her head she wearily made her way upstairs and to bed.

**A restless, sleepless Sherlock suffering from withdrawal and a horny Molly...what could possibly go wrong? Answers on a postcard...or more practically in a review? Go on, you know I love hearing from you all.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yay, I'm finally on my summer break which means lots of lazy morning and fun afternoons. I have plans to write as I have lots of fics started but not finished and I'd like to have something ready for when this fic ends.**

**I hope you all have some good plans for the summer but even if you're working give yourself some chill time when you can to recharge, enjoy some sun and maybe read some good fics ;).**

**Chapter 12**

It felt like the middle of the night when she heard Sherlock tapping on her bedroom door. Groggily she turned and opened one eye to glance at the time; it was just after two in the morning.

'Yes, what is it?'

She was starting to sit up as he pushed open the door letting the light in from the hall way. He clicked it off plunging them both into darkness and it was only as she felt the bed dip that she realised he had come in.

His voice was quiet and shaky even in the dark. 'I...I'm not feeling so good. I know you said I shouldn't but I need to stay in here with you?'

'What? No...no I don't think that's such a good idea.'

Even as she spoke she knew he was ignoring her and getting under the covers. He shifted towards her and as she lay back down he wrapped his arms around her waist and lay his head on her chest.

'Please Molly, just for a bit. I don't think I should be alone. I...I don't want to be alone.'

His voice was still barely above a whisper but she wasn't sure she had ever heard him sounding quite so desperate and it had her pushing her own concerns away as her desire to help him came to the fore.

She relaxed into the bed a bit more and tentatively brought her hands up to his hair, letting it slide through her fingers and feeling him taking a shaky breath.

'Why not? What's wrong?'

'I just can't seem to stop thinking. Everything that happened at Sherrinford with my sister seems to be playing over and over in a loop in my head. I keep seeing the governor blowing his own brains out, the look on those men's faces as they hung on ropes over the rocks...and Victor...I keep imagining Victor stuck in that well dying. He was my friend and I couldn't save him.'

'Shh...you were a child, how could you have saved him? And just remember you saved John...and you saved me.'

Her heart twisted in her chest at the memory of that phone call. Hearing him saying those words to her had been so hard but she knew now why he had done it, why he had pushed her to say them to him. He had been saving her life...or so he thought. He hadn't known that Eurus never planned to kill her. In that moment he had thought her life was at risk and she was grateful that he had cared enough to go to the lengths that he had.

'I just keep thinking about how good it feels to get high. It helps block out the memories and I can't help but think how easy it would be to just leave. I could be in Basingstoke in less than an hour. It's a large town, drug dealers will be easy to find; I know where to look, who to seek out.'

He pulled Molly a little closer and she felt his hand on the bare skin of her back and it made her shudder involuntarily. His legs tangled with her own one of them sliding between hers. He was so close and so warm, holding onto her as though his life depended on it and maybe it did.

She tried to be logical with him. 'But you have no money, I took it along with your credit cards remember. They're all in the safe and Mycroft made sure it was one you couldn't break into.'

He huffed and she felt his breath through the thin material of her night shirt. It felt like his mouth was mere centimetres from her breast and she knew her nipples were hardening. Her body was betraying her even as she tried to concentrate on comforting him.

'Oh Molly...you should know me better than that. You left my empty wallet in my coat. It has a gold money clip inside...easy to hock. Plus the cuff links in my jacket are worth over a thousand pounds...and I never wear cuff links. My watch is a Rolex easy to swap for drugs when you need to. I'm never without the ability to get cash if I need it.'

Molly made a mental note to remove all of those items. He was right she hadn't even thought of him using them or pawning them.

He went on and his voice was low and seemed to sink into her very soul. 'I just need you Molly, I don't want to be alone. I need a distraction.'

As he spoke his leg moved between her own, rocking slightly and applying pressure to her centre. His nose brushed against her breast and she felt his warm breath again, closer now, ghosting over her nipple still with just the thin material between them.

She realised with a start that he was seducing her and she tried to gather her thoughts but she couldn't quite bring herself to fully push him away.

'I'm not just a distraction Sherlock.'

His answer is quick. 'I know you're not...you're my friend, you save me Molly...always. Just...just save me now. I need you. I don't want to be that addict anymore, I don't want to be on the streets desperate for a fix...I want to be here with you.'

As he finished speaking he pushed the material of her night shirt up and his mouth covered her breast and she could feel his tongue swiping over her nipple and she couldn't help the groan she let out.

She was aroused without even knowing how it had happened and even though she knew she should be saying no her body was aching to be filled by him.

'Oh God, how do I know you're not just using me?'

She gasped as he applied more pressure between her legs and she felt his hand cupping her sex before his fingers moved against her wet quim making her groan once more, her body involuntarily arching closer to him.

'I'm not, I promise I'm not, I want you Molly. I can't offer you more than that but I want you. I'm not high, you aren't drunk, this is just us and I'm being honest; ever since the other night I can't get the image of being with you out of my head and I want it again, more than I want drugs. Be my addiction Molly.'

She knew he wasn't offering her love but he was offering her his body and in that moment it was enough and she moved onto her back taking him with her.

As he kissed his way up her neck he slid two fingers inside her with the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit and she knew that she was past the point of no return. All she wanted was to come with him buried inside her.

His mouth came level with her own and when he kissed her Molly felt an unstoppable orgasm starting to wash over her. She was moaning and pressing her body up to his as his tongue danced with her own and even as she started to come back down she knew she would come again.

Her hands pushed at his pyjamas as she desperately tried to release him and he withdrew his hand from her core so he could help her; pushing them down just enough that she could reach in and wrap her small hand around him.

For a moment they stayed as they were kissing as she stroked him but a few seconds later and Sherlock was on his back with Molly rising up in her knees so she could position him at her entrance. She looked into his eyes as she slid down onto him and there was just enough light for her to see his eyelids flutter shut at the sensation of finally being inside her once more.

His head fell back on the pillow and even as she took a moment to adjust to the feeling of being filled by him she moved her mouth to his throat and she savoured the chance to kiss it. Her tongue trailed up the length of it before she kissed and sucked at the skin below his jaw.

His hands found hers and their fingers linked together either side of his head and she used the leverage to start moving against him. He felt big and hard and she could feel another climax starting to build, driving her actions as she sought it out.

They seemed to move in perfect synchronisation and Molly sat up a little so he went deeper and he released one of her hands so he could cup her breast and move his mouth to bite and suck at her nipple; the sensations it cause just went straight to her centre and she could feel her inner walls starting to flutter with the start of her second orgasm.

Bracing herself with her free hand against the headboard, just as she had their first time, she drove herself back onto his cock harder and harder as her moans and cries became louder and she could tell that he was getting closer himself. His thrusts were starting to lift her off the bed and when she came she felt him pulsing inside her. His mouth released her breast so he could let out a deep, guttural groan and it felt like it was the best sound in the world. Making Sherlock come was a beautiful thing.

She sagged down onto him burying her head in the crook of his neck and his arms wrapped themselves around her holding her close and the moment felt so filled with emotion that she almost welled up with tears but she forced them back.

It wasn't long before the feeling passed and reality started to settle back in and she pushed herself off him excusing herself whilst she went to the bath room to clean up. It was when she was in there that she started to worry. What exactly had she done? And what were they now? This changed things so much more than a high and drunken one night stand. Even if it didn't change anything for Sherlock it certainly changed things for her.

As she made her way back to her room she realised that she couldn't even be sure that he would still be there but as she climbed back into the bed he reached for her and pulled her to him kissing the top of her head.

She wanted to ask him a thousand questions, to try to clarify just how he felt but she was also scared to. It all seemed so shaky and unstable and she didn't want to lose this moment and so she said nothing. Instead she lay in the dark enjoying just being in his embrace and being so close to him and a few minutes later when she knew he had fallen asleep she let her hand slide down the warm skin of his back, kissing his chest and breathing in the scent of him.

Her own breathing evened out and she knew she was starting to drift off. She had never felt so safe as she did in this moment and yet so emotionally uncertain. All she knew was that she desperately wanted him to still be there in the morning.

**What do you reckon? Will he be there in the morning? Should he be there or were they wrong to do what they did? I have to be honest, if I was Molly I don't think I would have been able to resist being seduced by Sherlock even if it was all shade of wrong.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, I have to say I'm loving my holiday so far. Lots of lazy mornings and chilled days. I've managed a bit of writing, not as much as I'd hoped but some. I've finished a short fic which you'll get after this one.**

**Now I know it's a bit early but I was thinking I should come up with an idea for this year's Christmas fic and I'm coming up blank. So...any prompt ideas that you have let me know them.**

**Anyway, back to this story...it's morning...is Sherlock still there?**

**Chapter 13**

When Molly did finally wake up it was to an empty bed and her heart sank. She rolled over onto her back and let her arm stretch out over the spot where Sherlock had been lying. It was still warm so he hadn't been gone long but he was gone.

She let out a sigh and stared up at the ceiling as she willed herself not to cry. She'd given in to him again...she'd thought there was more to it but there obviously wasn't. He had just been using her, sublimating his addiction for drugs into sex with her.

She pushed herself up and adjusted her pillows so she was more upright and she was about to think through her options when she heard him making his way up the stairs. She held her breath as she listened...was he just going to the bathroom or into his own room?

Instead her door was nudged open and Sherlock came in carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and what looked like toast. When he saw she was awake he smiled.

'Hey, you're up. I wanted to surprise you with some breakfast in bed. I don't know about you but I'm starving.'

He balanced the tray in the edge of the bedside cabinet whilst he decanted the two cups before passing her one large plate filled with toast covered in either jam, honey or just butter. She had to admit it smelt delicious.

He chucked the tray onto the floor and then came around the bed and climbed in next to her before reaching over and snagging one of the pieces of toast.

Molly just looked at him in utter amazement. Given how she had been feeling just a few seconds ago her brain was struggling to keep up with this turnaround.

'Mmm I think I've got the reverse munchies. Normally I'm starving when I've been smoking pot this time I'm starving because I'm in withdrawal. Come on, eat up or I will.'

She put the plate down on the bed between them and instead turned to face him. 'What's going on Sherlock?'

He huffed slightly and picked up his second piece of toast. 'We're having breakfast in bed...or at least I am.'

'I mean with us...you coming into my room in the middle of the night, us having sex?'

This time he smirked and he most definitely had a gleam in his eye. 'What's the problem? I know you enjoyed it, you were loud enough.'

Molly knew she was blushing but she ploughed in regardless. 'The problem is that I'm worried you're just using me to distract you from the drugs. You even said as much last night.'

He indicated for her to pass him his coffee and she did, picking up her own and sipping on the bitter liquid feeling the warmth as it slid down her throat. She felt as though she could barely swallow though; it was as if her heart was stuck in her throat as she awaited his reply.

'It's more than just a distraction Molly I promise you that much but I'm not sure how much more I can offer you. I think we can both agree that I'm a mess. I'm a junkie in withdrawal, emotionally unstable, and still an all round arse. I've never understood why I have your loyalty or your friendship but you've always been there for me.'

Molly sat in silence as he spoke chewing unconsciously on her bottom lip until his fingers moved to still her actions. The simplicity but intimacy of his action took her breath away.

'I had never really thought about getting physical with anyone...not since my youth but I couldn't stop thinking about how good it felt the other night and how much I wanted to be with you again. And don't get me wrong it isn't just because you're here and available. I have no interest in having sex with anyone else but I DO want to carry on having sex with you.'

Molly nodded once. 'OK...but what? You don't want a relationship?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know. Maybe? I'm not sure how good I'd be at one. Can't we just see where this takes us?'

Molly sat and thought for a moment whilst she drank her coffee and watched Sherlock picking up and then eating another slice of toast.

What he'd offered was more than she'd ever expected but less than she would have hoped for. Could she walk away though? She'd gone into previous relationships with less promises why was this so different? She sighed...she knew exactly why it was different. He could break more than just her heart...he could leave her emotionally broken.

Sherlock finished his toast and moved the plate before removing her cup from her hands and placing it with his own on his bedside cabinet.

'Do I need to offer you some proof Molly...maybe persuade you a little?'

She looked over at him wide eyed and her mouth ran dry at the look on his face...a mix of humour and lust.

He took her by the waist and pulled her down in the bed until she was lying flat and in a heartbeat he was over her, staring down at her. His held himself up on his arms and she found herself captivated by how strong and sinewy his arms looked. For once in her life she was able to touch him, to explore his body and a sense of calm settled over her. She knew her decision...there had never really been a choice to make. His lips quirked up slowly into a knowing smile and she got the impression that he knew what she was thinking. Slowly, he lowered himself closer until their bodies were touching from toes to chest and his lips met with hers in a perfect kiss. It was slow and sensual and it seemed to wake up every part of her body.

She let her legs widen a little and he settled between them with his erection already pressing against her. He let out a low hum as they kissed and let his hips start to rock against her own, rubbing himself against her and making her body crave more.

Each time that she had been with him so far it had felt more real than the time before and there was no disguising it now, not in a bedroom brightly lit by the morning sun streaming in through the yellow curtains.

They slowly undressed each other until they were both completely naked and then Sherlock set a slow pace as he explored her body. He used all of his senses; his hands stroked her skin, his mouth licked and bit and kissed what felt like every inch of her. His eyes raked over her until she was blushing to the roots of her hair and he chuckled as his finger traced the blush down her chest.

Finally he sank between her thighs and he inhaled deeply. 'Mmmm you have no idea how good you smell Molly. You're making my mouth water.'

Molly had always felt slightly nervous and uncomfortable when any previous bedmate had gone down on her but somehow Sherlock made her feel at ease. Maybe it was the knowledge that he would have no problem telling her if she was lacking or if he didn't want to do something. Sherlock wasn't the kind of person to lie unless it benefited him and he certainly wasn't the sort of person who would feel obliged to do something if he didn't want to...not without being very vocal about it.

She couldn't help but look down at him; seeing those familiar curls between her legs and biting her lip again when his eyes flicked up to meet hers, a sinful look on his face. He watched her as he slowly licked up from her entrance to her clit and Molly felt her eyes roll back in her head as she fell back onto the bed. God he was good at this, she had no idea how he managed to be so good at sex when he had abstained for so long.

Within the space of a couple of minutes she was clutching at the sheets and crying out as she came but he hadn't finished with her yet and as she tried to catch her breath she saw him sitting back on his haunches wiping the back of his hand over his mouth as he smiled down at her with what she could only describe as a smug smirk.

'Mmm Molly you taste divine. I could do that all day.'

She knew she was blushing at him being so gleeful about oral sex but she had to admit it was a confidence booster.

He crawled over her and kissed her and she could feel his erection hard against her thigh and she knew she wanted more of him...she wanted everything he was prepared to give her and more.

As he entered her he looked into her eyes and she almost had to look away...the gesture seemed so intimate...it was as though he'd be able to read her every thought...her every desire.

When he reached the limits of her body, buried so deep inside her he could go no further she saw his eyes flutter shut and his mouth opened in a silent groan and it made her internal muscles contract around him. She knew in that moment that she would come again. He seemed to know just how to move and what to do to excite maximum pleasure from her...maybe that or it was just the fact of who he was and how she had felt about him for so long that caused it.

One by one he caught her hands and after linking his fingers with hers he pressed them into the mattress restricting her movement. The loss of control seemed to enhance her arousal and as he started to move within her all she could do was to lock her ankles around his back and give in to him. He alternated between kissing her and burying his head in the crook of her neck as he concentrated on his own needs and hers.

She could tell that he was getting close, his pace picked up and his thrusts grew more powerful and she begged him to give her more as she teetered on the edge of her climax. Just as she thought she couldn't take any more he told her to come for him and then he sucked hard on the skin just below her ear and she fell over the edge into an orgasm which seemed to rob her of her senses. The rest of the world didn't exist, there was just her and Sherlock and waves of pleasure. Her orgasm triggered his and he slammed into her once...twice and then he held himself as taught as a bow as he let out a loud shout of release and relief.

Finally he released her hands and she wrapped them around him as he sagged against her breathing as heavily as she was. She couldn't ever remember feeling happier of more sated, she wanted to stay like this forever...just the two of them in their cottage enjoying each other.

Which of course meant it was all about to change.

**More sex, a happier Molly and a loving Sherlock...of course it has to change, I can't make it too easy for them. Anyway, did you like the morning sex? I hope so, and I'll be back soon to let you know what's happened to change everything.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry if this has taken a while. I'm away on holiday and just haven't had as much time to myself as I thought I might. Plus it's a year ago this week since I lost my dad and as you can imagine it's been praying on my mind. Anyway, I hope you like this new chapter xxx**

**Chapter 14**

Sherlock gave her a quick kiss and then he rolled off her onto his back and he watched as she made her way out of the room and into the bathroom to clean up. She brushed her teeth and then looked at herself in the mirror whilst she waited for the shower to heat up and she couldn't help but grin at herself. She honestly looked like she was glowing with an inner happiness. OK Sherlock wasn't promising hearts and flowers but they were in a relationship of sorts and she felt more hopeful about life than she had in years.

By the time she came out Sherlock had vacated the bedroom but she could hear him moving about in his own room no doubt getting changed.

Ten minutes later and just as she was making her way downstairs she heard her phone ringing in her handbag. She hurried over to answer it wondering if it would be Abby wanting to meet up but instead as she picked it up and flicked her thumb across the screen to answer she saw it was Mycroft.

'Ms Hooper. I'm just ringing for an update on by brother. What is his progress?'

'Oh right, well good. We've had our ups and downs but he's on board with the detox and yesterday was the first reduction in dosage and whilst he initially had a...umm...difficult night we seem to have got through it.'

As she was talking Sherlock came down the stairs and looked at her quizzically. She mouthed 'Mycroft' to him and he rolled his eyes and scrunched up his nose.

'I have to ask you something Molly and I'd appreciate you being completely honest with me. Please understand I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't important. Do you think Sherlock would be well enough to come back to London? Bear in mind that I would want him to continue his detox with yourself in Baker St but something has come up that requires his particular set of skills.'

'Oh...I...err...I'm not sure.'

'We could keep the booking on the cottage and I can assure you that if there was the slightest sign of my brother relapsing we could have you both back there within a couple of hours.'

Sherlock had come over by now, sensing that there was more to this conversation than just an update on his health. He held his hand out for her phone but Molly shook her head.

'In that case, so long as I have your word, I think my answer is yes but only just...it's still very early days.'

She heard Mycroft let out a sigh of relief. 'Thank you, is my brother there?'

'Yes, hang on.'

Silently she passed the phone to Sherlock.

She nervously watched as Sherlock took the phone and started the conversation with his brother, firing staccato questions at him which didn't enlighten Molly much as to what was going on. A minute or so later Sherlock hung up and threw the phone down onto the settee. He turned to Molly with a gleam in his eyes and she knew that whatever this case was it had excited his interest.

'Looks like we're heading home. Can you pack? I need to do some quick research. The car will be here in an hour.'

Molly rolled her eyes but nodded and headed upstairs to start. Luckily they'd both packed reasonably light so there wasn't a huge amount to do but she wanted to at least strip the beds and give the bathroom a quick clean before they vacated. She occasionally heard Sherlock swearing at the laptop and she threw him a quick smile as she made her way down to sort out the kitchen.

When she was finally finished she made her way over to him. 'Can you bring the bags down please? They're a bit heavy for me. Oh and don't lose track of time, the car will be here in five.'

Sherlock looked up at the clock and seemed surprised but he unfurled himself from the settee and quickly packed up the laptop.

Whilst he finished getting ready upstairs Molly sent off a couple of texts to her cousin and Abby letting them know about their sudden departure but promising to be in touch and just as she finished there was a knock on the door.

Molly recognised the caller as one of the men who'd dropped Sherlock off, what now seemed like half a lifetime ago.

'Doctor Hooper.'

She smiled and let him in pointing to the safe with the methadone and making her way to the kitchen to pick up the two bags of left over food.

On his return trip Sherlock was making his way downstairs with the suitcases and he stepped forward to help.

'You're looking a bit better than you did when you arrived sir.'

Sherlock smirked. 'Feeling better as well. Molly's been looking after me.'

The first man turned to Molly. 'Wasn't sure how you were gonna cope but you were right when you said you could 'andle him. Right, is that everything?'

Molly grabbed her coat and bag and looked around the front room as Sherlock picked up the laptop bag and his Belstaff and they nodded following Mycroft's man out to the car.

They settled into the back seat and Molly looked out of the window mentally saying goodbye to her village and also to the house which had potentially changed her world...it was too soon to say if it had changed for the better but for the first time in years she had hope and that was more than she'd had when she'd arrived.

She glanced over at Sherlock who was firing off texts on his phone and she wondered how things would be for them back in London. It was one thing hooking up when they were effectively on holiday but back in their real lives?

She was still mulling things over and watching the world pass by when she heard a huff from Sherlock making her look round. He had a frown on his face.

'What's up?'

'I hate long journeys...boring.'

His eyes narrowed for a second as he looked at her before looking at the back of the driver.

'Can you put up the privacy glass please.'

The driver nodded. 'Of course sir'. A second later and there was a hum as blacked out glass rose up separating her and Sherlock off from the driver.

Sherlock looked over and smiled at her wickedly. 'Come here.'

Molly bit her lip and shook her head even as her body betrayed her.

Sherlock's smile grew wider as he moved closer to her, his hand sliding up her thigh rucking up the skirt of her dress. 'Come on, you know you want to...bet you've never had sex in a car.'

Molly raised her eyebrows and grinned back at him. 'Well that's where you're wrong...though I have to admit it wasn't moving at the time.'

His fingers were playing with the edge of her knickers and she felt her need for him outweighing her moral compass. Unclipping her seat belt she moved over so she was sat on his lap, straddling his thighs.

'Mmm, this might help to pass the time.'

Sherlock took her face in his hands and leaned up, capturing her lips in a slow, sensual kiss which had her insides flip flopping with desire. They'd only had sex a few hours before and Molly wouldn't have believed she'd have any desire left to be sated but she did.

Molly had never had sex when there were people this close by and she knew the driver was sitting barely a couple of feet from her. Sherlock had to reassure her more than once that no one could either see or hear them and if she hadn't been so turned in by him she probably would still have said no but one hand in her knickers and the other on her breast muddled her thinking and she tugged at the fastenings of his trousers until she could release his cock.

As she slid down onto him she let out a loud groan which she suddenly swallowed back in fear that they would be heard making Sherlock chuckle.

He leant up and kissed her throat and she could feel his lips moving against her skin. 'Stop worrying, he can't hear anything...I promise.'

'Are you sure?'

'100%' he bucked his hips up and she let out another groan, her eyes rolling back in her head and she let herself concentrate on how he was making her feel. He was quickly learning just what turned her on and he undid her top just enough that he could pull down her bra and use his mouth on her breast, his teeth worrying her nipple in a way that seemed to connect straight to her quim until she was on the brink of her orgasm.

She could tell by his grunts and groans that he was close too and she tugged on his curls until he brought his face up to hers and she kissed him. The kiss was passionate and desperate and as their tongues met Molly felt herself tipping over the edge into a mind numbing orgasm which had her crying out his name over and over. It was too much for Sherlock and he thrust up into her as hard as he could as he came too; holding her tight against him as his cock pulsed deep inside her.

Molly sagged against him kissing his neck and she felt him lean his head back on the seat. 'Jesus Molly what have you done to me? I could do this all day.'

She smiled shyly as she sat back up. 'So you still want us to be together in London then?'

He looked at her in confusion. 'Yes of course, why would you think otherwise?'

'I don't know it just seems more real back there.'

He dug in his pocket and passed her a handkerchief so she could clean herself up a little. 'You're not some holiday fling Molly, you mean more to me than that.'

She shifted off his knee feeling a little reassured but not fully convinced. Only time was going to tell on this one.

They seemed to be on the outskirts of central London and Molly felt that same frisson of excitement that she always got at coming back to London. She had grown up in a very middle class, middle of the road, medium sized town and from the first time she had visited the capital she had known that that was where she wanted to live. She'd only applied to do medicine at the London universities and had been thrilled to be accepted at most of them. In the end she'd chosen Imperial College London and together with her mum and dad she'd packed up her bags and moved down to a small bedroom in a shared house. Even though she'd been sad to see her parents leave once they'd seen her settled in she had still felt that same sense of excitement and possibilities and it had never left her. It was her favourite city in the whole world and now here she was returning to it in a relationship with Sherlock; something she had never believed was possible, not since those first few months of knowing him when she'd nervously built up the courage to ask him out only to be firmly knocked back.

She turned her head slightly to watch him as he tapped away in his phone. She wasn't sure if he was texting or googling but it was taking up his whole concentration. At least she had thought it was. As she watched him he started to smile and then his eyes flicked to her and then back to the screen.

'Are you going to watch me the whole way back Molly?'

She chuckled. 'Might do.'

He rolled his eyes. 'Just so long as you don't watch me in my sleep because that would just be creepy.'

She laughed again before schooling her features. 'I can't guarantee that.'

'Do I need to get a restraining order?'

With that opening she couldn't resist her response. 'No need, I'm more than happy to restrain you if that's what you want.'

At that he finally put his phone down initially looking shocked but then smiling wickedly. 'Oh no Molly. If anyone is going to be restrained it will be you, I can just picture you tied to my bed.'

Molly tried to laugh but she knew she was wide eyed and too aroused by that thought to even respond. Damn him, he was going to be the death of her. She was grateful that at that moment they pulled into Baker St.

**Hope that keeps you going. I'll try to post again whilst I'm away xx**


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm finally back from my holidays. Had a lovely time in Lancashire, UK but did get s bit fed up of living out of a suitcase towards the end. I didn't do any writing at all but I'm hoping to make up for that this week in my final week off from work. Fingers crossed.**

**Thank you all to those who made suggestions for a Christmas fic a chapter or two ago. There were some fab ones and it's definitely got me coming up with some plans. I'm thinking Santa Murders and snow caused gridlock in London...watch this space. (That's going to out me under pressure to write it now :)).**

**And talking of London...Molly and Sherlock are back, will it change anything?**

**Chapter 15**

They carried in their own bags whilst the driver took the safe containing Sherlock's methadone and followed them up the stairs and into the flat. Waiting for them was Mycroft.

The two brothers shook hands before Sherlock took his bags through to his bedroom whilst Molly had the driver position the safe on the kitchen worktop. As she did she glanced at her watch and saw that it was pretty much time for Sherlock's next dose. She was surprised by how well he'd been considering he'd been on a lower dose and he'd struggled so much in the night. Maybe having a case really did help to distract him and control his symptoms.

Mycroft watched on as Molly set up the dose, marking the time and quantity in her notebook. As Sherlock came back into the room he quickly shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve before sitting down at the kitchen table and holding his arm out to her.

'No need to watch Mycroft, I wouldn't want to offend your sensibilities.'

His brother just raised a single eyebrow. 'Believe me brother mine this is the least of the offences you've caused me. I'm just happy to see you looking so well. Ms Hooper really has worked wonders with you hasn't she?'

Molly saw Sherlock shoot an angry glance at his older brother but he didn't say anything and neither did she. She really wasn't sure whether Sherlock wanted anyone to know about their change in status and she didn't feel it was her place to say anything to his family.

It was painfully obvious that the brothers needed to talk and so after disposing of the needle she made her excuses and went downstairs to see if she could scrounge a cuppa off Mrs Hudson.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

'OK Myc, spit it out. I know you're dying to say something.'

Mycroft pursed his lips in anger at Sherlock using his hated nickname but he bit back his retort and made his way into the living room before sitting in John's chair. Sherlock joined him, sitting opposite, and waited.

'You know I did wonder if this would happen. Throwing the two of you together...after that declaration on Sherrinford...I suppose it really was only a matter of time.'

'My "declaration" as you put it was a means to an end. I had to save Molly's life but I didn't mean it then and I wouldn't mean it now.'

'And yet you're sleeping with her, if I can use that euphemism.'

'Even you should be aware that sleeping with someone and loving them are two different things.'

'So you're telling me that you feel nothing for her...that it's just physical. That's cold even for us brother.'

Sherlock could help the irritation that rose up in him...his older sibling always seemed to find the perfect way to rile him up.

'Of course I feel something for her...I'm just saying it isn't love. I don't even think I'm capable of that. No...she's just...she's...I...'

'Well you just think on that then Sherlock and when you've finally decided what she is you can text me. In the meantime the situation at the embassy has worsened. It's only the fact that you cleared up the Yevgeny issue last year for the Russian ambassador that makes him trust you. He refuses to deal with anyone else and if we don't get this resolved within the next 48 hours I fear we may be heading for all out war.'

He proceeded to pass on the details to his younger brother and for the time being all talk of Molly Hooper was at an end.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly enjoyed catching up with Mrs Hudson. The older woman had obviously been very concerned about Sherlock before he'd been sent to Molly for detoxing and she was very glad to hear that he was back and doing well.

'Oh my dear that poor boy has been through more than you will ever know. It's a miracle that he's still standing. I don't wonder at times on him relying on drugs, I've seen addicts succumb who've had less than half of what he's had to deal with.'

Molly hadn't really thought about Sherlock's addiction in that way, she'd always considered it a weakness but then she hadn't had to fake her death, head off into the world alone taking on the bad guys. She'd also had a well rounded and loving upbringing; no psychopathic sister killing her best friends and torturing her. She also knew that he still blamed himself for Mary and on top of that he'd had to cope with John blaming him as well. Mrs Hudson was right...it was a miracle he was as balanced as he was. Molly wondered what addiction she would have succumbed to in the same circumstances.

'So, how was it living with him? I hope you made him do at least some of the housework...he gets into lazy habits if you don't.'

'Yes I did, he even changed beds, did the hoovering and made a meal.'

At this Martha burst into laughter. 'You really are perfect for him aren't you...I can't see him doing any of that for anyone else. So will you be moving in now?'

'I...err...'

At Molly's distress over an answer Mrs Hudson patted her hand. 'Don't you worry my dear, I won't say anything. He needs to move at his own pace but he'll get there in the end. Just remember I'm here if you ever need to talk.'

Molly smiled and thanked her. It felt good to have at least one other person know about her relationship with Sherlock. She wondered if he'd discussed it with his brother.'

It was soon after that that she heard the front door slam signifying Mycroft's departure and she took it as a sign to make her way back upstairs.

When she got there she was surprised to see John, she hadn't heard him arrive but then he still had his own key so wouldn't have needed to knock.

'Hey Molly, good to see you both back.' He said as he came over and kissed her on one cheek. 'It's good to see his nibs looking back to his normal self...you've worked wonders. Sorry for dumping it on you but I just couldn't have done it what with Rosie and everything...'

Molly shook her head. 'That's fine, don't worry, it all worked out alright in the end.'

Just at that moment Sherlock came back into the front room from the bathroom and he snagged his coat. 'Right, come on John we need to get a move on. We need to get to the embassy before anything else happens.'

Molly looked at him expectantly wondering how he'd make his goodbyes with John there but he just nodded at her. 'You can put your things in John's old room. Not sure when I'll be back.'

And with that they left leaving Molly feeling confused and a little hurt. She had wondered if he would be different in London and it looked as though her concerns were justified.

In the end she didn't spend long in Baker St. There was no point just sitting around waiting for them to get back and she wanted to see Toby and make sure her flat was alright. It kept her occupied for the rest of the day and when she returned to Baker St Sherlock was still no where to be seen.

She spent the evening by herself and when she went to bed she texted him to say good night but heard nothing in return and it had her tossing and turning in her bed unable to sleep. She was damned if she was going to let him fob her off like this, it was one thing not telling everyone but another cold shouldering her in private.

She finally fell asleep in the early hours and when she did wake up she could hear voices downstairs in the front room. She used the small bathroom adjacent to John's room to brush her teeth and clean up and when she was dressed she went down.

'Hey you two, how's it all going?'

Sherlock was sat cross-legged in his chair with his eyes closed and his hands steepled under his chin and didn't respond but John gave her a cheery wave from the kitchen and she made her way through.

'Hey Molly, kettle's just boiled. Do you want a coffee?'

'Yes please. So, how is the case progressing?' She glanced over at Sherlock, her eyes lingering on him willing him to look at her but there was no reaction from him.

'It's quite bad at the moment. Everything is on a bit of a knife edge and Sherlock can't seem to work it all out. I left him to it last night and said I'd meet him here this morning...not sure he's had any sleep but then he rarely does on a case like this. We're heading back there soon.'

He put the coffee down in front of her and she asked after Rosie, loving to hear all about her developments no matter how small.

'I must pop round and see her...maybe later today?'

'She'd love to see you. Harry's at my flat looking after her and she'll be glad to meet you finally.'

It was then that Sherlock interjected. 'John if you've quite finished gassing we need to go.'

Molly smiled at him. 'Hey, do you want me to...'

But he cut her off. 'No, I don't need the drugs I just need to get on with this case. John, are you coming?'

As they left the flat Molly was almost tempted to throw her mug across the room. She knew he was on a case and it took all his focus but he was just being a bastard and she was damned if she'd put up with it.

She sat and thought through her options as she drank the coffee and in the end she texted John and then she made her way upstairs to pack.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It was mid afternoon when Sherlock and John made their way back to Baker St. Sherlock felt as though he had ants crawling under his skin and he knew he'd left taking his next dose of methadone too long.

As he ran up the stairs with John trailing behind he was calling Molly's name but there was no answer.

'Dammit where is she?' He slammed his gloves down on the kitchen table and tore off his scarf. It was then that he noticed that the safe was slightly ajar. He spun round to find John in his path holding his hands up in a bid to calm him.

'Sherlock for gods sake will you listen to me. Molly's gone home, she texted me earlier. I tried to tell, you but you were so caught up you weren't listening to me.'

'She's gone. Why? Why would she go?'

Sherlock turned to follow John as John made his way over to the safe.

'Well there wasn't much for her to do sat around here on her own. She's told me how to register my print on the safe and I can give you your dose.'

'But I need her...'

Sherlock sounded so distraught that it made his friend pause and turn back to him.

'Well, I'm sure she'll come over if I call her. I didn't realise you felt so...umm...reliant on her. I mean you basically ignored her earlier.'

'I...no, I didn't...I...'

Sherlock shrugged off his coat and jacket and threw them over the back of John's chair. His head was starting to pound and he felt as though he couldn't think straight. He needed his drugs and he needed his Molly and he felt angry and frustrated that she wasn't there.

'Just calm down...let's give you your dose. It'll help to calm you and make you feel better.'

Sherlock felt John guiding him over to one of the kitchen chairs and pushing him down into it.

As he waiting for his dose to be administered he thought through his interactions with Molly that morning and he knew deep down that John was right. He had been pushing her away since his conversation with his brother...damn Mycroft.

He watched as John took hold of his arm and tied the strap to make his veins more visible. He was rougher than Molly, she always seemed more patient...gentle. He liked the way she touched his arm, stroked the vein before injecting him.'

The rush of the high was still the same though and he clenched his fist and closed his eyes...and all he could think about was Molly.

**Sorry, you know how he gets with Mycroft...he shouldn't have let it needle him (pun intended) but he did. Now he needs to make things up with Molly don't you think?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Oops, I was so busy writing a new fic that I completely forgot about posting this one. I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?**

**Chapter 16**

As Sherlock started to come down from the initial rush of the methadone his thoughts turned away from Molly and just like that he could see all the pieces of the embassy puzzle falling into place but he pushed it to one side.

'I need someone to stay over with me.'

John, who was packing up the needles and empty bottle, snorted a little. 'You're actually asking for a babysitter? That's not like you. I suppose I could pick up Rosie and stay over...'

'No, not you. I need Molly, she said she'd be here with me.'

He saw John stare at him for a second but refused to meet his eye.

'Okay, why?'

'I haven't been back long, I might regress.'

'No, Sherlock, not why do you want a babysitter...which by the way is still odd of you to request. Why Molly? What aren't you telling me?'

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably on his chair and then stood up suddenly walking into the front room and hearing John start to follow him.

'I...we...might have...'

'Oh my God, please don't tell me you're in some kind of relationship with her.'

John sounded so horrified that Sherlock turned round feeling a spike of anger.

'Why? What would be so wrong with that?'

'You are...so why did you act like such a dick with her earlier? No wonder she's left you.'

'She hasn't left me...she's just...not here.'

'She's not here because you ignored her and brushed her off. That's why I hoped you wouldn't be in a relationship because you've been treating her like shit since you'd got back.'

'I didn't mean too...I was just caught up in the case.'

'Bullshit. What really happened Sherlock?'

Sherlock sighed and turned away. 'Mycroft...he saw the change...made out like it was bound to happen after I declared my feelings in that phone call on Sherrinford.'

John washed a hand over his face and sighed. 'And you just couldn't bear for your big brother to be right. Honestly Sherlock, grow up or you deserve for her to walk away.'

With that John slammed the safe shut, turned on his heel and left leaving Sherlock behind railing at himself for letting Mycroft get under his skin to such a extent that it had affected his relationship with Molly. He'd promised her that nothing would change when they got to London and he'd broken that promise within minutes. He suddenly felt ashamed in a way he hadn't in a long time.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and dialled her number.

It rang for so long that he expected the answer phone to kick in any minute but finally she answered sounding weary rather than her normal bright self.

'What is it Sherlock?'

'Hi, listen I'm sorry I haven't been in touch but the case is almost solved and I thought maybe you could come over and spend the night here in Baker St.'

There was a pregnant pause and Sherlock found himself holding his breath waiting for her response.

'I've made other plans for the evening Sherlock.'

This time he could hear movement in the background. It sounded like she was going downstairs in heels, he could hear them clicking on the solid floor.

'Please Molly, I don't think I should be alone.' He hated sounding so needy but all of a sudden needy was what he was. He wanted her with him.

'I'm sure John or Mrs Hudson can come round, I think I've done my bit for now don't you! Listen my taxi is here so I've got to go. I'll...I'll talk to you tomorrow.'

And then she was gone leaving Sherlock feeling worse than he had before he'd contacted her. His first emotion was anger...anger that she wasn't doing what he wanted when he wanted it. He was used to people, and her in particular, doing as he demanded. It felt strange to be rejected.

His second feeling was determination. He was not going to be thwarted.

Almost as soon as Molly had hung up on him he was on the phone to the black cab central control. He wasn't a big cab user and tipper for nothing. They knew who he was and he often contacted them for information about cabs and where suspects might be heading. They soon had Molly's cab identified and gave Sherlock the details of where it was heading, a trendy bar close to Covent Garden.

Ten minutes later and he was in his own cab heading for the same destination. It was early evening on a Friday and the place was heaving with people, many of them spilling out of the bars and onto the pavement. Once the cab dropped him at the right pub it took him a while to work his way through to the bar and when he did he spotted Molly almost across from him paying for her drink. He was about to get her attention when she turned and passed a second drink to a man who she then embraced warmly.

Sherlock felt all the air leave his lungs. The sounds in the pub which had been overwhelming to the point of irritation seemed to fade and he felt a tightness in his chest. He couldn't bear to witness any more and so he pushed away from the bar turning so he could lose himself in the sea of people; not wanting Molly to know that he'd seen her. His mind was already turning over the locations of the nearest dealers in this area. He needed to get high.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was past midnight when the doorbell rang in Molly's flat. She was just finishing getting ready for bed and she quickly grabbed her dressing gown before padding her way to her door. She wondered who it might be...whoever it was hadn't rung the outside door...maybe a neighbour locked out?

She rolled her eyes and sighed when she saw a dishevelled Sherlock leaning against the wall. He looked awful, his eyes red rimmed from lack of sleep, day old beard growth on his face.

'Sherlock, for God's sake what are you doing here?'

He looked passed her into the flat. 'Are you alone?'

She frowned at this. 'Yes of course I'm alone. Who else would you be expecting to be here?'

'I thought you might have brought him back.' He seemed to spit the words out venomously and it just made Molly all the more confused.

'Him? Who on earth are you talking about?'

'That guy, the one you met in Tatchells in town. Don't try and deny it because I saw you. You were all over him.'

Part of Molly knew she should be getting angry, she would have if any other boyfriend had been saying this but she realised that what she was seeing was Sherlock being jealous and she had just never expected him to have jealous feelings about her. If anything it made her smile.

He cocked his head when he saw it and narrowed his eyes.

'I suppose you'd better come in.'

She gestured for him to enter and tried not to giggle as he stalked past her.

She followed behind and when they made it through to the front room she slid past him and headed into the kitchen before flicking on the kettle. She suspected this might take a while and it looked as though Sherlock needed some kind of sustenance in him and hot chocolate sounded perfect for that.

'So why did you come to Tatchells? I thought you were all wrapped up in your embassy case.'

She leant against the counter and looked over at Sherlock.

'Boring...solved it hours ago and texted Mycroft with the details. I went to Tatchells because I knew you'd be there.'

Molly waited, giving Sherlock a chance to continue...knowing he would.

He was moving around the front room, touching items, picking things up; it was as though he couldn't keep still...the tension and stress was radiating off him but Molly knew she couldn't comfort him...not yet.

'I saw you with him.' He spat the words at her and then glanced away before taking a deep breath.

'And how did that make you feel?'

He swung his head round to look at her, a frown marring his features.

'How did it make me feel? It made me feel angry, hurt, rejected, betrayed. How do you think it would make me feel seeing you with another man?'

Molly shrugged. 'I don't know. I didn't think you'd care at all after the way you'd treated me since we got back.'

He took a few steps towards the kitchen. 'Oh, so this is all my fault is it. I don't give you enough attention so you go cheat on me.'

Molly took a deep breath and try to calm her own emotions. She was determined not to get angry...she needed him to realise he was jealous and why he was jealous.

'Do you really think I was cheating on you? Honestly? Use your brain Sherlock what did you see?'

He narrowed his eyes and she saw them unfocus and flicker slightly and she knew he was reliving what he'd seen.

He started to speak and then stopped before hesitantly starting again.

'I saw you greeting a man, hugging him...I didn't...I mean, I see now. He was an old friend, you hadn't seen him in a while...you bumped into him unexpectedly and bought him a drink...but you were there with someone else...there was a third drink in your order. Meena?'

Molly smiled a little and nodded. 'Yes, I was out with Meena. I bumped into Paul, a guy I went to Uni with. I hadn't seen him for over a decade. He's married now, with three kids...he showed me their pictures.'

'Ah.'

The kettle flicked off and Molly moved forward to pour the water into the cups.

'Yes...ah. So that was hours ago. Where have you been since?'

He seemed to have deflated a bit since he'd arrived, his shoulders had slumped and he seemed even more tired as he came and sat on one of the stools at her breakfast bar. She passed over his hot chocolate and he took it.

'Thanks. To be honest my first thought was to get high. I was half way to the nearest dealer when I realised I couldn't go through with it...not after everything I've done to get clean. I knew that getting high would kill any chance I had of winning you back but I was still too angry and confused and so I walked along the Thames smoking. I lost track of time but this whole evening made me realise something that I had been denying. I denied it to Mycroft and I tried to deny it to John...at least at first but I can't hide from the truth any longer.'

Molly felt the atmosphere change a little and she found she was holding her breath.

'What truth Sherlock? What were you hiding from?'

He looked up and looked her in the eye and she found herself unable and unwilling to look away. This moment felt pivotal...

'I realised that I'm in love with you...I love you, Molly Hooper.'

**And there we have it, finally the penny drops for him. We're almost at the end now...just one more chapter to go. Send me some love. I'm back at work tomorrow after the summer holidays and I'm not looking forward to it :(**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, I'm back with the final chapter and I am so glad that you guys have enjoyed it. I'm sorry if I haven't been very good at responding to reviews recently but I've been back at work and the start of term is always full on. I have read every one though and your continued support keeps me writing so thank you xx**

**Chapter 17**

He put down his cup and stood up before making his way around the breakfast bar to join her in the kitchen.

'I'm so sorry that I was such a dick to you when we got back here. I have no excuses. It was me being childish and stubborn and stupid and I'm sorry that I hurt you.'

Molly could feel tears threatening to fall at hearing him saying those words that she'd always longed to hear from him...and also to hear how contrite he was about how he'd hurt her.

'Does this mean that you aren't ashamed for your friends to know that we're together?'

He smiled at her. 'So we are still together then? I haven't lost you?'

She rolled her eyes and put her hand against his cheek. 'No of course not. You could never lose me...never...you're stuck with me whether you like it or not.'

'I like it...I definitely like it.' He swept her towards him with one arm around her back and as he bent to kiss her Molly felt herself relaxing for the first time in almost two days. She hadn't been with him for long but already it had felt wrong to be apart for so long.

The kiss deepened and Molly knew she could easily let it become something more but she could also feel the scrape of stubble under her palm and it made her remember just how tired he looked. She also recalled John saying he probably hadn't slept last night and she didn't want his health suffering for the sake of a quick shag.

'Come on, you need some sleep, you might as well stay here.'

She picked up her hot chocolate and took his hand and started to make her way to the bedroom with Sherlock grumbling behind her.

'Do we have to? Your bed is uncomfy and I hate your duvet covers...they always have kittens on them. Anyway...I can think of other things I'd rather be doing.'

She smiled back at him. 'I know you can but you look like you're about to drop. I'm not going anywhere so you can wake me up however you like once you've had some sleep.'

Sherlock scrunched up his nose but he didn't protest any further and Molly knew that was a sign of just how tired he was now. The adrenaline of the case and his jealousy had carried him this far but he didn't have any more reserves left.

They both got ready for bed, Molly already in her nightdress and Sherlock just shrugging out of his clothes and sliding into the bed temptingly naked. She rolled onto her side and Sherlock folded himself around her hugging her to him and as she fell asleep she couldn't ever remember feeling happier.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

She awoke the next day just after eight. Sherlock was on his back with his face turned away from her but she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest and even though she was tempted to wake him up, given how tired he had been, she decided to let him carry on sleeping and getting some rest.

As carefully as she could she slid out of the bed and caught hold of her dressing gown before quietly making her way out of the bedroom and pulling the door shut behind her.

She spent the next hour drinking tea and catching up with reading her book and she was just starting to think about having a shower when she heard Sherlock leaving the bedroom and making his way to the bathroom.

She couldn't help the swoop of her stomach at the fact that he was awake and she made her way into the kitchen to stick on the kettle for his morning coffee.

She'd just sat back down on the settee whilst she waiting for it to boil when she heard Sherlock coming into the front room. What surprised her though was that he was both angry and stark naked.

'What? What's the matter?'

He stalked over to her. 'I'll tell you what's the matter...the matter is I woke up alone. The matter is that you didn't wake me when you awoke.'

By now she'd stood up and he was right in front of her but what she didn't expect was for him to scoop her legs from under her as he lifted her bridal style and started to march back towards the bedroom.

She let out a squeak followed by a giggle as she wrapped her arms around his neck loving the look of stern determination of his face.

'I didn't think you'd want me to disturb you...I thought you'd want more sleep.'

His face finally softened and he raised an eyebrow. 'Well you thought wrong.'

He finally let her down onto her feet once they were back in her bedroom and as he pulled her close he bent his head to kiss her. His body felt lean and muscular and strong against her own and it sent a trickle of lust snaking down through her body. She opened her mouth to him and he immediately used his tongue to twist around her own eliciting a moan of pure need that she hadn't expected to make.

He must have felt or heard it because he slid his hands down to her backside and then picked her up making her instinctively wrap her legs around his slim hips. She could feel him hard between her thighs and it just made her want him even more.

Carefully he took a step forward and he eased them both down onto the bed until she could feel the weight of him pressing onto her. A moment later she felt his hand between their bodies, his long fingers starting to delve and explore her quim.

'Mmm, you feel so wet.'

He kissed down her throat as he let two fingers slide into her whilst the heel of his palm pressed against her clit...she felt him rocking his hips against her simulating sex and before too long it all became too much for her and she came, noisily crying out his name knowing that he loved hearing it.

He shifted to one side and she watched as he withdrew his hand and sucked his two fingers clean, closing his eyes and humming in delight and she giggled. She'd never had a guy be so vocal and open about enjoying the taste of her. He made her feel sexy and desirable in a way that she just hadn't ever expected from him.

She pushed at his shoulders indicating that she wanted him on his back and he duly obliged taking her with him so she ended up straddling him. She could feel the hard length of him under her and she teased them both by sliding herself along it as she undid the belt of her dressing gown.

His eyes as he looked up at her were hooded with desire and she knew she would never tire of seeing him like this, of being with him and having sex with him. He was everything she had ever wanted...even with his addictions and his faults. She knew him and still loved him.

She let the gown slide off her arms and she threw it to one side; then she squealed in shock as he surged up into a sitting position, bending her back slightly so his mouth could cover her breast. She could feel his breath hot against her skin through the thin material of her nightdress; the scrape of his teeth and the dampness of his tongue. It seemed to connect directly to her core and she could feel desire building once more and she knew she'd come again before too long. Was it that he knew her body so well or was it that she'd craved him for so long? She wasn't sure which it was or whether it was both and she didn't really care.

His hands pushed the material up her sides and he broke off his ministrations just long enough to remove it and discard it somewhere then his hands were back on her now naked skin. She loved how they seemed to span her waist or cover her breasts or her backside.

She didn't want to wait any longer and so she reached between them and took hold of him, raising herself up on her knees until she could feel him breaching her entrance and starting to fill her. She took her time, enjoying the slight burn as he stretched and filled her.

He fell back onto the bed and she leant over him starting to find her rhythm, his hands and his mouth alternating on her breasts. She knew that neither of them would last long but it didn't matter...they had their whole lives ahead of them. She was in no doubt now that that is how this would play out. She knew that their biggest barrier had been him discovering and then acknowledging his feelings and now he had she also knew him well enough to know that he would commit himself to her 100% just as he did with all his vices and passions. He would be as addicted to her as he had been to drugs.

One of his hands moved to the base of her spine pressing her against him so her clit was rubbing against his pubic bone and she could feel her orgasm rising. He seemed to sense the moment it started to break and he bit down on her nipple balancing between pain and pleasure in a way that made her mind explode as her climax washed over her in wave after wave. Her movements faltered and she felt him take over, thrusting up into her until he came with a loud cry.

**Epilogue**

It had been just over two years since Molly and Sherlock had returned from their self made rehab and Molly's life couldn't be any better. She reflected on this briefly as she looked down the aisle and tried to steady her nerves before starting the long walk.

It was however a wedding that she would never in her wildest dreams have anticipated and it was completely unlike her own wedding to Sherlock eighteen months previous which had taken place in a registry office close to Baker St with just John, Mrs Hudson and Mycroft in attendance. She chuckled as she remembered Mycroft's warnings about how angry Sherlock's mother would be but they'd just wanted a quiet, intimate gathering.

This wedding was huge, in a church with lots of people who were now watching as Molly started to make her way down the aisle.

It had all come about when she'd had her friend Abby come to stay whilst she still had her old flat. She worried that Baker St would be inaccessible and she'd promised to invite her old friend to London.

They'd had fun sight seeing and shopping. Molly had almost forgotten all the things London had to offer and it had been fun seeing it through the eyes of a tourist. On the day before Abby was meant to be going home she and Molly and Sherlock had gone along to a Scotland Yard booze up in one of the Westminster pubs. It had been there that Abby had met Anderson and the rest as they say was history. Their attraction had been almost instant and although Abby had left the next day she was back in London two weeks later, staying at Molly's flat initially but soon spending more time at Philip's until Sherlock had just rolled his eyes and commented that they should just get on with it and move in together. And so she had. Anderson had had his flat adapted to accommodate Abby's disability and although Sherlock had never said anything Molly knew he had helped him out financially to make the changes.

So here she was as bridesmaid following her friend down the aisle ready to marry Philip Anderson. She caught Sherlock's eye and smiled and she had to actively stop her hand from dropping to her stomach. She was ten weeks pregnant and it was still a secret that only the two of them shared...she liked that no one else knew yet but she knew they'd have to start telling people soon.

Sherlock had been drug free ever since their time away and she was confident that he would stay that way now. Since they had got together he'd been calmer, more resilient and less irritable (though double dates with Abby and Anderson had tested that to the limit somewhat). Love suited him...it suited both of them. She was as addicted to him as he was to her and she always would be.

**And there we shall leave them. I hope you liked the little love twist for Abby at the end. I was a bit mean to Anderson in a previous fic and I wanted to make it up to him because I do like him really.**

**Anyway, send me some love and review and I'll do my best to return with another fic before too long...though I do seem to have a lot of WIPs and not much close to being finished at the moment. Until then...take care xx**


End file.
